


Pretty Boy

by JupiterMelichios



Series: Robin by Midnight [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Midnighter (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Begging, Bisexual Jason Todd, Bisexual Roy Harper, Butt Plugs, Cock & Ball Torture, Continuity What Continuity, Crying, Daddy Kink, Enthusiastic Consent, Everyone is Poly Because Titans, Explicit Consent, Facials, Forced Orgasm, Happy Sex, Humiliation kink, Jason Todd Has Issues, Just Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masochism, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Rape Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Spanking, Under-negotiated Kink, Vanilla Person/Kinky Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 22:17:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21126143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JupiterMelichios/pseuds/JupiterMelichios
Summary: "How are you so much better adjusted than me when you're the walking embodiment of all my least healthy kinks?"





	Pretty Boy

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: this fic contains a rape-roleplay scene. It's not negotiated as much as something like that should be, but it's all consensual and a fun time is had by all. However if that's something that is likely to upset you I would not recommend reading this fic.
> 
> Okay, that's the serious stuff, now the fun bit. Thank you to the amazing StarCityRebels for beta'ing, this fic would not be nearly as good without their help. And thank you to the anonymous tumblr user who saw me talking about how every Batboy should have the chance to work out some of their issues with Midnighter and requested I write this. Five years ago. Whoever you were, I hope you manage to find this fic. Sorry I'm so bad at deadlines.

Jason has a love hate relationship with his protective cup right now. On the one hand, it stopped that guy from earlier from kicking him in the balls, and right now it’s doing a bang up job of disguising how hard he is from Midnighter. On the other hand, dear god was it not designed to contain raging boners because ow. Owwwwwww.

He wishes Roy was here. Not just because Roy would be at least as attracted to Midnighter as Jason is, if not more (although that too). Mostly he wishes Roy was here because then it wouldn’t just be him and his inappropriate hard-on against a man who people called the god-killer unironically.

“You okay kid?” Midnighter asks, shrugging off his huge leather coat and laying it over the back of one of the chairs in Jason’s second favourite safe-house. It’s one of the few that’s actually fit for company, an abandoned brownstone on the edge of Penguin’s territory that has a working bathroom and some actual furniture, but he won’t be heartbroken if Midnighter being here compromises it.

“I’m good,” Jason says, a little breathlessly. Under the coat, Midnighter’s wearing a stab vest, or something like it, and a black wifebeater. He’s still in wearing the cowl and the gloves, and those combined with his bare arms is _ doing things _ to Jason. “That was… impressive. I didn’t even know you could get a spine out whole like that.”

“It’s all in the angle of attack,” Midnighter says with a shrug. His voice is low and kinda rumbling, not as deep as Batman’s, but also not an affectation. “I’d offer to teach you, but then we’d need to go and find more goons, and I want a shower.”

“Yeah, dried brain matter is the worst,” Jason agrees, which is one of those things everyone in his line of work knows, but never says out loud for fear of sounding like a complete psychopath.

Midnighter grins at him. “You know, I expected you to fight more like your brother.”

“Which one?” If there’s one thing Jason isn’t short of, it’s brothers.

“Bouncy. Great ass.”

“Nightwing? I tried to, when I was a kid, but you’ve gotta be an acrobatic freak of nature with no bones and godlike upper body strength to fight like Nightwing. I was always more of a punch them in the face kind of a guy than a backflip over their heads kind of guy.”

“Or shoot them. Didn’t think Bats used guns.”

“I’m the black sheep of the family. Nightwing’s the bouncy one, Red’s the clever one, I’m the one who figured out shooting a guy in the head is kinder than sending him to Arkham.”

“Right now you’re the one covered in drying brains,” Midnighter says, tilting his head in a curious birdlike way that seems out of place on his large frame. “Want to fight me for first shower.”

Yes. Or more correctly, dear _ God _yes. “Nah, I’m good. You’d kick my ass, we both know that. You can have first shower.”

“What a gentleman,” Midnighter says, and pulls off his gloves. With his teeth. It’s possible Jason whimpers a little. This is unfair. It’s like someone took all his least healthy kinks and combined them into one man. “Of course, there’s an alternative.” Please let it be sharing, please let it be sharing… “We could always share.”

Jason freezes. “Did you just actually say that, or was it just wishful thinking?”

Midnighter chuckles. “You’ve been looking at me like you want to ride me like a pony since I beat that guy to death with his own arm. Not a lot of men still want me to touch them after they’ve seen me work. Especially not ones as pretty as you.”

“I can say without a doubt that I very definitely want you to touch me. And you must know a lot of idiots, because watching you fight was the hottest thing I’ve seen all month.”

“Only a month? I must be losing my touch.”

“Last month was a good month. The bit where I got to watch a hypersexual alien supermodel edge my best friend until he was actually crying was especially good.”

Midnighter grins, and peels off his cowl. Underneath he’s handsome, younger than Jason was expecting, with dark brown hair shaved into the kind of undercut no straight person has ever had. “Seems like I’ve got a lot to live up to.”

Oh god, Midnighter actually trying to seduce him. Is it possible to die from being too turned on? “Seems like.”

“Well how about I soap your back for you, and we go from there, huh?”

“Wash my hair as well, and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Jason says, doing his very best impression of nonchalant. It comes out a little too Brucie, but it’s better than dropping to his knees and begging. He’s leaving that till at least one of them is naked.

“Works for me,” Midnight says. “I’ve been told my scalp massages are pretty damn close to a religious experience.”

Jason stares at the man’s hands. Huge scarred hands, soft from sweat and leather, with lumpen knuckles from decades of healed breaks. He licks his lips. “I can imagine.”

“Oh, you can do more than imagine, boy.” Midnighter grins at him, a wide happy show of teeth that makes him look disturbingly (attractively) cannibalistic. “Where’s the shower?”

“Oh, er, this way.” Jason gestures, and leads Midnighter through to the bathroom.

It’s modern and comfortable, with a luxuriously large shower – a birthday present to himself last year. It’s going to be a tight fit, but the kind with lots of wet skin sliding sexily against wet skin, not the kind where you keep elbowing your lover in the kidneys. (He and Roy share the latter kind of showers fairly often, because Roy has no concept of personal space, and believes in saving water. Jason finds them hot anyway, because he’s pathetic).

He turns the shower on, considers turning the temperature down, considers turning it up, and then narrowly avoids braining himself on the shower door, because Midnighter has started to undo Jason’s uniform.

“Not that I don’t appreciate that,” he says, when he can manage words again, “But you might want to let me do that, if you don’t want to be paralysed for the next half an hour.”

“Probably wouldn’t work on me,” Midnighter says, with a casual smugness. “But by all means. I enjoy a good show.”

Jason doesn’t blush, but only because Bruce spent a long and ball-crawling time training him out of it back when he was a kid. He still to this day isn’t sure if it was for the mission, or Bruce’s own amusement.

The answer is almost certainly ‘both’, because Bruce’s sense of humour is fucked the hell up when it’s not just non-existent.

He’s not thinking about Bruce though, not when Midnighter is stripping off his vest and watching him, thumb hooked in his belt-loop like a goddamn Calvin Klein model. Not when Jason can smell him, sweat and blood and arousal and really fancy aftershave and the lingering bile-fear-urine scent of all the people he’d killed tonight. Which shouldn’t be hot, but if Jason started giving himself shit over getting off on violence he’d never get to come again. 

He’d removed his jacket and helmet when they first got in (it’s not like Jason’s a public figure these days, his face isn’t going to give away his identity). Now he disables the tasers in his body armour and cracks it open, shivering for the feeling of cool air against skin superheated by exercise and way too much fucking Kevlar. He likes Kevlar, don’t get him wrong, Kevlar is every careful vigilante’s best friend, but that shit does not breathe even a little bit.

He removes his belt next, considering and dismissing the idea of smacking it on his palm as he does so, the way Roy does when he wants Jason to beg. Midnighter looks like he might enjoy that kind of thing sometimes, but Jason isn’t nearly big or strong enough to make it count, not when the guy’s regular squeeze could go toe to toe with Supes.

There’s really no sexy way to remove combat pants or socks, not unless you’re Dick, so he sticks to trying not to look too ridiculous as he stands one first one leg, and then the other, to remove his socks. He shoves his pants into the corner of the room, where there’s less chance of them getting wet. Doesn’t matter how many times Roy or Red tell him the toys they give him are waterproof, it’d only take one damp fuse to put him back in the ground, and he’s not gonna let that happen any time soon.

He’s down to his boxers and his undershirt, which is stuck to him with sweat. Midnighter is still fully dressed from the waist down, including those huge fucking combat boots that Jason is totally not thinking about unlacing with his _ teeth _. He should never let Roy show him porn – it inevitably led to him developing new and increasingly bizarre kinks.

He thinks about what Dick would do in this situation, or Roy, or Kori, or any of the other people he knows who manage to be sexy less awkwardly than him. He’s not prepared to do the full bump and grind that Roy or Dick would give it, or just tear his clothes off with no consideration for whether they’d be wearable tomorrow like Kori would, but he can pull on a little of them all, give his grin a little of Roy’s cockiness, his hips a little of Dick’s sway, his back a little of Kori’s arch. Allow them to give him the confidence to slide his shirt off slow, arching to show off his abs, to palm himself through his boxers before he hooks a thumb in the waistband, sliding them down enough that his cock springs free and then leaving them there as he strokes himself.

“Pretty,” Midnighter says, and Jason can’t decide if his tone is mocking or not. He steps in close, wraps one huge hand around the one Roy still has on his cock. “Look at you, just begging someone to wreck you.”

“Right now I’d prefer it to be you,” Jason says, and is damn proud of how steady he sounds.

Midnighter snorts and wraps his free hand around the back of Jason’s head, tipping it from side to side as though he’s considering what to do with him, and one of the options it breaking his neck and leaving his corpse on the bathroom floor.

Jason is going to start being turned off by that any moment now.

“Hot water’s gonna run out,” he says.

There’s a long tense moment where Midnighter just stares at him, so intently that Jason starts to worry he really is going to be murdered, and then Midnighter lets go and steps back. “Better finish stripping then,” he says, and unbuckles his belt.

Jason strips out of his boxers, mostly to give himself something to do that isn’t staring at Midnighter’s hands on his belt. He doesn’t actually trust this man enough yet to play any serious pain games, and letting him think that he does is probably a very bad idea.

He stands, awkward and naked and hard, as Midnighter finishes undressing, pushing tight black boxers down to join the pile of his other clothes.

The water is still nice and hot when Jason steps under the spray, tipping his head back to allow the water to push his hair back off his face.

He steps in close to the wall to allow Midnighter room to slide in behind him, and then gasps as Midnighter shoves him up against the cool tiles, his arm a steel bar holding Jason in place, his cock hard against Jason’s back, and leans in so that his breath tickles the short hairs at the nape of Jason’s neck when he speaks.

“I’m doing this for my own pleasure. If you wanna stop, say so, I don’t play those kinda games, but otherwise I am gonna do exactly what I fucking want to you, understand?”

Jason pants a little, nods.

“You can come any time you like, like I said I don’t play that way, but you might wanna bear in mind that unless you yell stop, this finishes when I’m done, and not before.”

“So what you’re saying is, this is gonna be painful and overwhelming with a side order of exactly what I fucking needed?”

Midnighter laughs. “The hell does the Bat find you kids? Does he look for the broken ones, or do you start out normal until he fucks with your heads?”

What did you do with Dick that makes you think…? But he can’t ask that question, not if he wants to still be able to look his brother in the eye tomorrow.

“Have you met Red Robin yet? He’s the real freak in the family.” That’s not exactly true, they’re all flying their freak flags pretty fucking proudly, but Red is the one who makes people the most uncomfortable. There’s something slightly uncanny valley about the way every emotion he displays is carefully considered beforehand that makes civilians think he’s a serial killer. He’s also quiet and poised and absolutely in control of himself in ways that makes Jason 100% convinced he’s just dying to have someone shove him around and call him a slut. Or pin him in the shower and tell him they don’t care if he gets off on being fucked or not, as the case may be. It’s one of the reasons he finds Tim easier to deal with that the rest of the family – they might have started out different, but they’ve somehow ended up with a lot of the same scars.

“Do they hand out bingo cards with you boys?” Midnighter asks, blowing on the back of Jason’s neck and then chuckling when he shudders.

“Not until Robin’s legal they don’t,” Jason tells him, gasping as his cock rubs against the cold tiles of the shower. “Either bite me or stop teasing, man, there’s only so much…”

Midnighter latches his mouth onto the back of Jason’s neck, sucks until the skin is mounded and he can sink his teeth in, sudden and brutal enough that Jason thinks he might be bleeding, but he doesn’t care because he’s too busy yelling like he’s getting fucked. There’s something about that spot, something that definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the way Bruce used to fix his gaze there and stare, that whites out his mind every time someone touches it, even gently. It makes him want to hang his head in submission, makes him want to spread his legs and beg to be fucked, makes him want to take and take until he can’t take any more.

“Am I bleeding?” he asks, once his brain is mostly back online. Shit, he needs Midnighter in him right fucking now, but he’s not ready to admit that out loud yet.

“Not yet,” Midnighter replies, sounding smug. His breath is cool against the heat of the bruise, and every breath is making Jason bite back a whimper. “It could be arranged.”

Jason groans and shoves his hips back, uncaring that Midnighter’s size means his ass slides against the other man’s legs, coarse hair tickling his skin in ways that absolutely shouldn’t be sexy.

“Jesus, has the Bat thought of giving up the crime-fighting and just renting you boys out?” Midnighter asks, one huge hand slipping between their bodies to cup and squeeze Jason’s ass. “He’d make a fortune.”

“Doesn’t need one,” Jason says. “And have you considered not calling the guy you’re trying to fuck a whore?”

“Not when they’re asking for it like you are, pretty boy. Anyone with half a brain could see you’re dying to have some big strong man make you all his.”

Jason screws his eyes shut, and pushes away the shadows of decades old fantasies. He doesn’t want that, not any more, not since Bruce left him to die at the hands of the Joker.

“Don’t mention the Bat again while we’re fucking, and I promise not to bite you when you put your cock in my mouth,” he bargains, fully aware of just how much he’s giving away by saying it. But he needs this to only be fucked up in relatively healthy ways if he’s going to be able to meet his own eyes in the mirror tomorrow, and that means keeping his (lack of a) father issues way the hell out of this.

"Does that mean you don’t want me to go put the cowl back on?” Midnighter asks, and Jason can hear the grin in his voice. “It seemed to work pretty good for your big brother, especially when…”

“No, nope, you’re not telling me about that, no way,” Jason interrupts quickly. “I am totally unsurprised Dick is down for fucking his own demons, but I am here to have brutal, painful, non-traumatising fun that does not involve B in any way shape or form, got it?”

“$50 says I could make you beg for it.”

“You’re strong enough to pin me with one hand and I watched you take bad guy apart like the world’s most gruesome jigsaw puzzle, of course you could make me beg for it. But I’m telling you now that I don’t want that. You don’t strike me as being that kind of asshole.”

Midnighter laughs, and for some reason the fact that it sounds happy rather than mocking makes it more creepy. “You got no idea, kid. But you look like you got a sweet mouth on you, so I’ll play nice.”

Jason lets out the breath he’d been holding, and tries to push away from the wall. For a moment, Midnighter doesn’t move, keeping Jason pinned, and Jason’s cock twitches at the thrill of fear that sends through him. After a moment, Midnighter lets him go, and Jason turns around, leaning his shoulder against the tiles and cocking his hip in a pose that he hopes works half as well on him as it does on Dick.

“Hot water’s gonna run out pretty soon,” he says. “Want to move this to an actual bed?”

Midnighter just looks at him, hot and steady and thoughtful.

“Erm, M?”

“I’m here, pretty boy. Just deciding if you deserve a bed.”

And hell, that shouldn’t be hot, especially not from someone who claims not to play the way Jason wants, but it’s a challenge, it’s Midnighter demanding he show off what a good boy he can be, and fuck but he’s got instincts for that, and way too many of them are wired directly to his cock.

“Let me wash your back. I’m sure I can convince you.”

“I’m open to being convinced,” Midnighter drawls, and turns his back on Jason, revealing acres of scars, shoulders Jason wants to bite, and an ass you could probably bounce rocks off.

And for the rest of the night, it’s all his. Sometimes his life is so fucking sweet.

He grabs a washcloth and the body wash Kori had picked out for him a lifetime ago, the one that smells of grapefruit and something sweetly musky that’s always kinda reminded him of sex (which is probably deliberate, Kori is a great believer in truth in advertising, and an even greater believer that Jason should spend at least 50% of his waking hours fucking), and pours some straight onto Midnighter’s back, just for the visual of it running down his skin.

Midnighter snorts. “Only very good boys get to come on my back, kid. You’re gonna have to try harder than this if you wanna earn the privilege.”

Christ. Jason is building so many individual fantasies right now, he doesn’t know which one he wants first. “Does your healing also make you multi-orgasmic?” Jason asks, scrubbing a little with the washcloth to build up a good lather.

“Doesn’t help if you aren’t. You’re still going to have to pick one thing and run with it.” The guy isn’t psychic - Jason’s pretty sure he’d have heard about it if he was, which means Jason is being even more obvious than he thought.

“And if I want you to pick?” Midnighter has bad dom written all over him, but Jason has fucking awful self-preservation instincts, ask anyone. And he’s getting the feeling the rewards might outweigh the risks.

“Then I hope you like getting fucked so hard you have to spit or swallow,” Midnighter says, easily.

Jesus fucking Christ, Jason is introducing Roy to this guy just as soon as he can walk again. Jason likes it rough, but Roy likes to cry with it, likes to lose every shred of his sense of self that isn’t all about getting filled, likes having his choice and his dignity and his words taken away by the force of the fuck…

“How do you feel about red-heads?”

“Kind of a non-sequitur, kid. I like em just fine, if they like me.”

Jason can’t keep from laughing. It’s just that the idea of Roy not liking someone like Midnighter is so ridiculous it becomes comical. “I was just thinking how much my friend would like you.”

“You need to learn to focus,” Midnighter tells him, rolling his shoulders against Jason’s hands in an unsubtle order for him to get on with it.

Jason does as he’s told (and there’s a fucking summary of his sex life in one small sentence) and washes Midnighter’s back, paying special attention to the scars on his shoulder blades that make it look like he might once have had wings, the small of his back where sweat has accumulated from too long in the armour, the slight curve of his waist, thick with muscle. When there’s no way Midnighter can be anything other than clean, he squeezes a little more body wash onto his hands and works Midnighter’s shoulders a little, pressing hard enough to make his thumbs ache as he kneads away some of the tension.

Midnighter leans back into his touch like a cat asking to be petted, groaning encouragingly when Jason finds a knot of muscle that needs working.

“I am going to get you so high on sex that you’ll be crying for me before I even put my dick in you,” Midnighter says, out of nowhere, and yeah, that’s officially the point at which Jason can’t wait any more.

It takes all his willpower to take his hands off Midnighter, to grab the washcloth instead of skin, but he needs to be clean and on some kind of horizontal surface with this man fucking yesterday, even if it’s the bathroom floor.

“Hot water’s gonna run out,” he says, because he doesn’t know how to put words to the other stuff yet, doesn’t know how and where he can push without Midnighter pushing back in the bad ways. “Time to get clean.”

He washes up briskly and efficiently, the way only vigilantes can, and tries not to get twitchy about the fact that Midnighter is just leaning on the shower wall and watching him. It’s kind of awkward, until he has to clean his ass and then it’s super awkward with a side of that humiliation kink he hadn’t ordered but keeps getting served anyway. If Midnighter would just _ say _something, anything at all, then it could be funny, or even hot, but he keeps just watching, silent and terrifyingly huge, and Jason’s cock just keeps getting harder for it.

It’s only when he’s done that Midnighter finally reacts, smiling slow and dirty as he says, “filthy boy,” like it’s simultaneously the worst insult and best compliment Jason’s ever gotten.

It’s possible Jason whimpers a little bit.

Midnighter doesn’t say anything else, just shuts off the spray and steers Jason out to stand on the tiles. He should be doing something, not just standing there shivering but Midnighter is hitting all the kinks Jason tries not to acknowledge, even to himself, and all he can do is stand and wait for orders.

Instead, Midnighter wraps one of Jason’s huge fluffy towels around him and begins drying him off like he’s a child, like he’s Jason’s… but even teetering on the edge of it like this, Jason isn’t going to let himself have that kink. He’s no one’s boy, and he sure as fuck doesn’t need another parent in his life, even if fucking him up the ass hard enough to leave bruises would only put Midnighter somewhere in the middle on the scale of fucked up parental figures in Jason’s life.

He really ought to get some therapy at some point.

He takes the towel from Midnighter, stepping back to give himself room to breathe. “I can do it myself.”

Midnighter just grins at him. “Sure you can. I was just inspecting the merchandise.”

You know what, humiliation really isn’t the worst thing Jason gets off too, so fuck it. He’s just going to roll with it. He gives his hair enough of a rub over that it won’t drip everywhere and then drops the towel, spreading his legs a little and clasping his hands behind his back like he’s on parade rest.

Midnighter picks up another towel and begins to dry himself off. “I still don’t play that way, kid,” he says, but when Jason begins to relax he makes a sharp wordless noise, like Jason’s a badly behaving dog. “But you can go right ahead and stay like that, since you like it so much.”

Fuck. Jason stays exactly where he is, and watches Midnighter’s cock sway as he dries himself. His mouth is watering, but he’s not going to drool yet. Not until Midnighter makes him.

“You never told me if you’re multi-orgasmic.”

Midnighter gives him a Look, capital letter and all. “I don’t remember telling you you could speak.”

Bad dom, Jason reminds himself. Worst possible dom. “I remember you saying you don’t play that way.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Midnighter’s hands are on him, moving him too fast and hard for Jason to be able to do anything but flail, and the sink is rushing up to meet him. He manages to turn his head in time, so that the tap hits his cheek rather than his nose, and has to pant for how fucking hot that was. He’d known he was no match for Midnighter, the man’s a fucking Superman-tier threat, but knowing it and feeling it are two different things.

One of Midnighter’s hands grips the back of his neck, huge and hard and so fucking hot, while he runs the other possessively down Jason’s back, coming to rest on his ass.

“Try again,” Midnighter growls.

“Fuck. Jesus fuck. I mean… sorry?”

His eyes meet Midnighter’s in the mirror in time to see a smile that doesn’t look like it should belong to anything human. “Pathetic.” And then he spanks Jason, so hard that Jason almost screams. “Try again.”

Jason pants, trying to get his brain anywhere other than where it wants to go, and of fucking course what comes out of his idiot mouth is “Make me.”

Midnighter spanks him again, but this time Jason’s prepared for it. It still hurts like fuck, but in a way that makes his fucking cock twitch and drool. “If you don’t behave, then after I fuck you I’m going to make you lick my cock clean.”

“Threat or promise?” Jason asks.

“Jesus, where the fuck does the Bat find you kids? How about this. If you don’t behave, then I won’t keep fucking you after you come, and I won’t jack you hard again while you’re still so sensitive it hurts, and I definitely won’t keep using your pliant fucked out little body like a come sock until you pass out.”

Jason just pants, because… because painful and overwhelming with a side order of exactly what he fucking needs. He’d known Midnighter would be good for it. “I can be good.”

“Oh I just bet you can. You got any toys here?”

“Sure.” He lives with Roy and sometimes Kori, keeping sex toys everywhere he spends the night more than once is just habit now. “Why…”

“Because I’m going to plug you up so I can watch you squirm while I spank you, and while I fuck your pretty little mouth, and once you pass out I’m going to stick it back in so that when you wake up you’ll still be stuffed with my come.”

He makes a point of meeting Midnighter’s eyes in the mirror. “Brown leather box, in the closet next to the grenades.”

That gets him another vicious smile. “Good boy. Lube?”

“Medicine cabinet and bedside table.”

“The Bat teach you that?”

“Boy scouts,” Jason says, just to be a brat. “Always be prepared.”

“For big scary men who want to finger-fuck you?”

“Like I said, boy scouts.”

That gets him an actual snort of laughter, which Jason is totally counting as a win. The number of people who’ve heard Midnighter laugh and lived to tell the tale is probably depressingly small. Not that he knows for sure that Midnighter is going to let him live, but he doesn’t seem like the type to fuck and murder. He’ll probably just disappear while Jason’s asleep, just to make doubly sure Jason knows what he thinks of him.

Not that Jason cares, not when Midnighter is leaning over him to open the cabinet, hot and hard against Jason’s ass.

“How much prep do you need?” Midnighter asks.

“Not much,” Jason says automatically, and then does some quick metal calculations regarding Midnighter’s cock and forces himself to add, “More than I’d like.”

“You want it to hurt, kid?”

“Always. But I also want to actually be able to get on my bike tomorrow.”

Midnighter’s eyes darken. “Wear the plug for the journey.”

“Sure, that’ll give the EMTs a real chuckle when they get called to the crash.”

“You’re good enough.”

That’s actually kind of huge, especially from a guy who looks like he gives compliments about as often as he gets a mani-pedi, and Jason is exactly the kind of idiot to find that a compelling argument. “Maybe. You’ll have to persuade me.”

“I could just order you.”

“You already told me you don’t play that way.”

There’s a pop as Midnighter opens the cap of the lube bottle, and then one huge slick finger stroking over Jason’s hole.

He can’t stop himself from arching back into the sensation. He feels like he’s been hard for hours already, and they’ve barely started. “Start with two. I can take it.”

Midnighter meets his eyes in the mirror. “Keep saying things like that, and maybe I’ll learn to play the way you want.”

“If you try to tell me this is the first time a guy half your age has begged for your cock, I will fucking laugh at you,” Jason warns him.

Apparently that was the right thing to say, because Midnighter stops teasing and begins pressing inside. His fingers feel even bigger like this, and starting with two might have been a mistake but Jason is never ever going to admit that, not when the sudden stretch burns so perfectly.

“Most of them didn’t do it so prettily,” Midnighter tells him. He shoves in hard, forcing Jason to take more than he’s ready for, and Jason whines high and animal for how fucking good it feels. “Guess none of them were as slutty as you.”

Jason tenses, waiting for the bad words, the fucked up words that always drop him right back into the worst bits of his childhood, but Midnighter just tightens his grip on Jason’s neck and says, “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t remember how to want anything that isn’t my cock,” and Jason moans with arousal and relief.

The relief must relax him, because Midnighter begins thrusting with his fingers, shallow movements that make Jason hang his head and pant with how much more he wants.

He breathes himself down by increments, forcing his body to relax even with the huge predator right behind him. It would be easier if Midnighter was in his line of sight, but if he’d wanted easy he wouldn’t be fucking the scariest superhero this side of… fucking anyone, now that he thinks about it.

He’s never wanted easy, and that’s good because life never gives it to him anyway. He wants big and scary and terrifyingly strong. He wants to be held down and pushed around and fucking _ used _, and he’ll get his wish just as soon as he fucking relaxes.

His little mantra must work, because Midnighter’s thrusts are getting longer, deeper. Better. He’s not touching Jason’s prostate but that’s okay because Jason’s cock is fucking begging already, just for the feeling of being held down and penetrated, and he wants to last long enough that he doesn’t embarrass himself completely.

He can’t get any leverage in this position, can barely move at all, nothing he can do but take it and that’s making it all so much better.

It’s not like he didn’t believe Midnighter when he said Jason was going to beg before he even got his cock in him, but he hadn’t expected it to come so soon.

“Please, fuck please M!”

“What do you want, pretty boy? Got to use your words.”

“Anything!”

“Anything, huh. Want me to stick a toy up your ass and spank you until you scream?”

“Yes!”

“Want me to fuck your throat so hard even a slut like you chokes on it?”

Jason’s cock fucking kicks, drooling precome over the cold porcelain of the basin. “Please!”

“Want me to fuck you until you pass out?”

“Don’t… don’t have to stop then.”

Midnighter thrusts hard, his fingers grazing Jason’s prostate, sensation so intense it’s barely recognisable as pleasure, and pants into Jason’s ear, the first sign that maybe this is affecting him as much as Jason. “They really need to start giving out bingo cards for you boys.”

He pulls out, too fast and too rough, and Jason whines for the sudden loss. He feels empty, hollowed out. Midnighter has carved out a space for himself inside Jason, and now he’s not even filling it.

“Come on, pretty boy,” Midnighter says, jerking Jason up by the grip he has on his neck. “I’ve got promises to keep.”

“And miles to go before you sleep?”

That gets him shaken, like a disobedient puppy. “I’m going to fuck the sass right out of you.”

Jason shuts his eyes and goes limp, allows himself to be steered through the safehouse to the bedroom. It doesn’t occur to him to ask how Midnighter already knows where it is, his mind too caught up in all the things he’s feeling and all the things M is gonna make him take.

In the bedroom, Midnighter sits him on the bed while he rummages in the closet for Jason’s toy box, emerging after a moment holding a hot pink plug and the bottle of lube from the bathroom. Jason hadn’t realised he’d brought it with him.

“On your back, pretty boy. I want to watch your face while I put this in.”

Jason scrambles to obey, putting himself on his back with his legs bent back almost to his ears. Bruce absolutely hadn’t trained them all to be this flexible for sex reasons, but he’s pretty sure all of them use it for that just the same.

He’d like to be on his knees, but at least this way he gets to watch Midnighter squeeze out way too much lube into his hand. He sees Jason watching and grins. “You’re gonna be wet like a girl for me, pretty boy, and I’m gonna watch it drip out of you while I fuck you.”

Jason moans, pulling his legs back even further until he can barely breath and that’s just adding to the eroticism of the moment.

Midnighter looms over him, big and scary and powerful and temporarily all Jason’s.

“My safeword is begonia,” he blurts out.

Midnighter raises a single eyebrow. “I already told you I don’t care.”

“I know but I want…” he trails off, unable to put words to the need burning in the dark shameful bits of his soul.

Midnighter has no such qualms. “You want to beg me to stop?”

Jason’s eyes are very wide, he must look like Tim when he’s undercover as a real boy, but he can’t make himself stop. He nods.

Midnighter grins, and presses the toy against Jason’s hole, not pushing it in just rubbing slick and teasing against his rim. “You want me to ignore all your screaming and force you to take it?”

“You said…” Jason licks his lips and tries again. “You said you’d make me… that I’d forget anything except your cock.”

“Including how much you don’t want it?”

His voice is very small and pathetic, but manages to force out a “Yes.”

“Jesus you kids are so fucked up,” Midnighter says, but without any malice. “Begonia. Sure, kid, if you really think you can manage it.” He presses the toy just a little harder, still not enough to breach the ring of muscle. “If you really think you can stop yourself from begging me for it, go right ahead.”

Jason closes his eyes, breathes himself down until he can put all the bits of himself he doesn’t need for this fantasy away in his mental filing system, nice and close for when he needs them later. Jason Todd wants this, way too much to even pretend he doesn’t, but he’s a Bat and that means he doesn’t need to be Jason Todd for this. He can just be…

“You alright, pretty boy?”

Pretty Boy. He’s just some pretty boy, who doesn’t know anything about how good it can feel to be overpowered by someone stronger than you, who doesn’t know how good it feels to get fucked, who doesn’t know anything except that he’s naked and alone with the scariest man he’s ever met and about to be penetrated.

Pretty Boy wouldn’t be breathing so perfectly, because Pretty Boy is scared and definitely doesn’t have any training on how to protect himself from all the bad bad (good good) things this man wants to do to him, so he pants, lets the sudden rush of oxygen start his pulse racing.

Pretty Boy wouldn’t just be lying here, waiting to get fucked. He drops his legs, begins to crawl away from the big scary man and all the fucked up things he wants to do, and doesn’t moan when Midnighter catches him by the ankle and hauls him back down the bed, because that isn’t what Pretty Boy would do, but he maybe doesn’t fight as hard as he could.

He was never the one with the talent for acting in the family.

He gets a momentary flash of how Tim would handle this, and doesn’t manage to completely bite back a completely out of character snort of laughter, because he’s pretty sure the answer is ‘with a lot less negotiation and a lot more weaponry’, and maybe Midnighter’s right about his family.

“You think this is funny, slut?” M asks him, with an impressive amount of menace for a man holding a hot pink butt plug.

Jason lets his eyes be as wide as they want, his breathing as chaotic and panicked. “I’m not a slut!”

M grins at him, wide and wolfish. “Not yet you’re not. By the time I’m done with you you’re going to be begging me to let you take my cock.”

“I’m not! I wouldn’t… I haven’t even…”

There’s that curiously bird-like tilt of the head again. “You’ve never done this before, pretty boy?”

“Of course I haven’t! I’d never…”

Midnight leans in close, gives up his grip on Jason’s ankle in exchange for one on his throat that makes Jason’s cock twitch. “You’d never what? Let a man you barely know stuff your untouched little hole full? Drool and pant and beg him to fuck your mouth? Tell him what a desperate little slut you are? Tell him you’ll do anything if only he’ll fuck you hard enough to make you bleed?”

Jason’s mouth is dry, but that’s okay because he’s pretty sure Pretty Boy’s would be as well. Just because he’s the one begging Midnighter to stop doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it just as much as Jason does deep down. “No!” 

Midnighter grins, and then with no ceremony or warning shoves the toy into Jason’s ass. It’s been long enough since the bathroom that he’s already started to tighten up again, and not all of the yells are Pretty Boy’s. “Give it time.”

“Please,” Pretty Boy begs in Jason’s voice. “Please, please not this, please anything, I’ll do anything, please don’t do this to me!” To his own surprise there are tears in his eyes. He must be a better actor than he thought.

“Begonia,” Midnighter says, apparently to himself. “Fucking begonia.” He tightens his grip on Jason’s throat from threatening to painful. He’s not cutting off all Jason’s air, not yet, but it’s getting hard to breath. “If you’re not going to play nice, guess I don’t have any use for you after all.”

Jason is definitely going to do something nice for Midnighter in exchange for this, like choke himself on his cock or maybe buy him chocolates. Pretty Boy is just terrified, adrenaline and panic making him freeze like a rabbit in headlights, totally unable to do anything to protect himself. “Please no,” he says, his voice high and strained from the lack of air. “Please, please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, I’ll, I’ll let you…”

Midnighter releases him with a sneer and Jason gasps in air. “You’re not going to ‘let me’ do anything, boy. I’m going to take what I want and you’re going to beg me to do it.”

He grabs a handful of Jason’s hair with one hand, and one of his legs with the other, and unceremoniously shoves him over onto his front. “But first, I’m going to punish you for being such a bad little slut and pretending you don’t want it. And you’re going to beg me for it.”

Jason has no idea if that’s directed at him or Pretty Boy, if Midnighter has even realised there’s another character in Jason’s head right now, but it doesn’t matter when it fucking works for both of them, making Pretty Boy’s eyes start to tear up again and Jason’s cock drool precome onto the sheets.

Pretty Boy tries for defiant, mostly ends up at pathetic. “I won’t! You can’t make me.”

“And here I thought you had decided to be a good boy.” He sits down on the bed beside Jason, never letting up on his grip on Jason’s hair. “I told you to beg, little slut.”

“Fuck you!”

Midnighter clicks his tongue like Jason is a disappointing child. “Such language!” His grip on Jason’s hair shifts, so that his huge hand is encasing almost the whole of Jason’s head. And then he begins to twist. “I could snap your neck like this, pretty boy. It wouldn’t even be hard.”

The thrill of fear is completely real, but it’s definitely Jason who wants to moan for it. “Fuck. You.”

“Oh really? You think I didn’t notice what this did you? How much you fucking liked it, you slut?”

The shower definitely hadn’t happened in whatever fucked up timeline of events ended up with Pretty Boy at Midnighter’s mercy, but Jason makes sure he knows what the threat means anyway. “You wouldn’t…”

“I killed seventeen people today,” Midnighter tells him, conversationally. “They made the mistake of pissing me off. And nothing pisses me off like desperate little sluts pretending they have self-respect. Now fucking beg me to punish you, or I will snap your neck like a twig and find some other boy to fuck."

The threat of leaving works better than the threat of death, Jason wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t trust M not to harm him physically, but it doesn’t really matter because the effect is the same. “Please! Please, I’m sorry, please don’t…”

“Ah ah, you know what you need to do pretty boy.” He shifts his grip back to Jason’s hair, lifting up by it until he’s forced to make eye contact. “Come on. Beg me to hurt you, and maybe I’ll only do it in ways a slut like you will enjoy.”

“I’m not…” Pretty Boy manages, but Jason hadn’t built him to be brave, or even very defiant. “Please.”

“Please what?” His grip on Jason’s hair tightens to the point of agony. “Come on, little slut. You can do better than that.”

The pain in enough to produce a few real tears, hot and shameful and ** _hot_ **. “Please. Please don’t… Please punish me. I’m a…” He can’t hold back a sob. “I’m a bad boy. I’m so bad. Please hurt me. I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be so good just don’t…”

“Jesus fuck,” Midnighter says. He reaches out and wipes away the tear tracks from Jason’s cheeks, a tender gesture that means nothing to the character Jason’s inhabiting. “There something you want to say to me kid? Maybe about houseplants? No judgement.”

Pretty Boy doesn’t know what the fuck that means, but Jason just isn’t letting himself go all that deep even when he wants to, so it’s him who snarls, “Fuck you,” in Pretty Boy’s voice. The words are all wrong for the character, but they seem to be what Midnighter needs to hear.

He grins at him. “It’s like that, it is?” His free hand shoves its way under Jason’s hip, gripping his cock so hard it hurts. “Oh, it’s definitely like that. God, you are such a slut. I threaten to murder you a couple of times and you’re fucking dripping.”

“I’m not…” Pretty Boy tries, even though he can feel how hard he is, even though he doesn’t understand what about this nightmare is getting him so hard.

Midnighter shoves a hand into his face, fingers wet with precome. “Lies like that get punished, boy.” He presses two of his fingers to Pretty Boy’s lower lip. “Suck them clean, and maybe I’ll go a little easy on you with your real punishment.”

Jason doesn’t want him to go easy, but Pretty Boy does, so he opens his mouth as reluctantly as he can, allows Midnighter to fuck his way in. He ought to be gagging, it would fit the character, but there’s nothing he can do about the fact that he’s spent as much time as he possibly can since puberty putting things in his mouth in the name of orgasms. Maybe Pretty Boy just wants it that badly, even if he won’t admit it to himself. Jason sure as fuck does.

Midnighter is bastard who’s creepily good at this for someone who’s obviously not played this way much before, and doesn’t even give Pretty Boy a chance to decide whether he’s going to suck or not, just fucks his mouth lazily for a minute and then wipes his fingers off on Jason’s lips like he’s a fucking dish rag. Which Pretty Boy definitely doesn’t find hot, and Jason _ absolutely _does.

“Not good enough,” Midnighter tells him, with a lazy grin. “Not nearly good enough. Guess I do have to punish you after all. Not that you mind, seeing as how you begged so nicely for it.”

“You threatened to kill me!”

“And you got so hard your cock is dripping.” He grabs Jason, hauling him over his lap like he weighs nothing, so that Jason’s ass-up over his knee.

Spitefully, because Pretty Boy is apparently turning into Tim without his permission, he punches Midnighter in the instep.

“Oh, it’s like that is it?” Midnighter demands, hauling him up by his hair. “You want to be tied up? You fucking _ ask _to be tied up. And I’m talking to Jason, not whatever fucked up character he’s playing right now.”

That’s fair. He really needs to learn to negotiate shit properly, like Roy’s always telling him. “I would like it if you tied my hands so I can’t fight you when you fuck my mouth.”

“You are fucked up, you know that?”

“You don’t have to. You can safeword out as well, it’s not just me that gets to say no.”

“Yeah, but you like it so much more than I do.” Jason’s concern must show on his face, because Midnighter grins at him, the closest thing to a normal human smile Jason’s seen from him yet. “I’ll say stop if I wanna stop, but so far this is the most interesting sex I’ve ever had.”

“That’s just a nice way of saying you think it’s fucked up.”

“I didn’t think I was being all that nice, actually. Look, I told you at the start I don’t play this way. I play rough sure but I don’t do the dom / sub thing. Not my scene. But you seem to be pretty into it and honestly, I kind of want to see where this is going.”

“Me tied up and begging you not to spank me, I thought we’d established that.”

“Brat,” M says, and Jason grins because yes, absolutely, he’s the brattiest sub he knows when he’s in the mood for it, and M probably hadn’t even meant it that way. “You got cuffs or something?”

“In the toybox.”

Midnighter drops him back down onto the bed and goes to search the box. “This character of yours have a name, apart from ‘Red Hood’s childhood trauma’?”

Jason snorts. “Trust me, that would be way more fucked up than this. This is teenage trauma at best.” He waits until he hears M’s hum of laughter. “I’ve just been calling him Pretty Boy.”

Midnighter stands up, holding a hank of rope in one hand and the good cuffs, the ones Jason can’t get out of without dislocating something painful, in the other. “Dealer’s choice. And it’s messed up that you didn’t give him a name.”

“He doesn’t want a name. He pretends like he’s a real boy but deep down he just wants some big strong man to take away all his choices and make him all his. You gonna want to tie me to anything?”

“The bondage is your thing, not mine kid.”

“Kind of seems like this is all my thing not yours.”

“Like I said, most interesting sex I’ve ever had. Come on, I didn’t come back to your place just so I could stand around with my cock hanging out all night.”

The rope will hurt more, but the cuffs are harder to get out of, even with a meta tying the knots. “Cuffs.”

Midnighter drops the rope back into the box. “You want to do this in character, or shall I just tie you up?”

Jason thinks about that. “Just do it. It’s going to take me a minute to get back into the right headspace and they’ll help.”

“Really? Because it looks to me like all I have to do is push you around a bit and you’re right there. Any reason you decided to be this nameless fuck toy instead of yourself?”

“I want it too much. It’s more fun if I can convince myself that I don’t.”

“I’m gonna write a memoir. ‘Robins, and all the fucked up shit they get off on’. It’ll be a bestseller.”

Jason is feeling better about this whole ‘springing hardcore kink on the unsuspecting surprisingly vanilla guy’ thing the more Midnighter talks. Now he’s not trying to seduce Jason or dom him, he sounds surprisingly normal. Like maybe he is real boy underneath all the black leather and murder after all. Jason wonders how many people know that, and then revises the question to ‘how many people found that out and lived to tell the tale’. “You need to scratch off Red on your bingo card first.”

“He as much of a freak as you?”

Jason considers telling him it was the Red Robin in his head who thought punching him was a good idea, and decides that that conversation would go nowhere good. “I bet you fifty bucks he asks you to keep the cowl on.”

“That’s not exactly original.”

“I bet you a hundred he pulls a knife on you while you’re fucking.”

“Okay, that’s pretty fucking original. You’re not going to try and knife me, are you?”

“Like it would work. I’m just going to cry and pretend I’m not about to come all over you when you spank me.” He turns sideways with his hands behind his back, so that he can watch M’s face while he cuffs him.

Midnighter buckles the cuffs into place and grins at him, hot and predatory. “I can work with that.”

“Safeword is begonia.”

“I have a computer where my brain should be, kid, I’m not going to forget your fucking safeword. Mine is ‘Jesus Christ that’s too fucked up even for me’.”

“Catchy.”

“Just rolls of the tongue when you’re around.” Midnighter sits back down on the bed and pats his thighs. “You want to get spanked, you’re going to have to assume the position.”

“But it’s so much hotter when you put me there yourself,” Jason mutters, but he does as he’s told. It’s awkward without the use of his hands, and he has to use even last bit of his core strength to keep from just collapsing onto Midnighter’s lap hard enough to wind himself, but once he’s there it feels so much better than it had before, the helplessness of having his hands bound adding to the humiliation of lying over a grown man’s lap with his bare ass in the air.

“Alright, pretty boy?” Midnighter asks, and Jason has no idea if the question is addressed to him or the character, but it makes as good a queue line as any.

“I’m being good,” he spits. “I’m doing what you wanted so just… just fucking get it over with.”

“Fifteen,” Midnighter says, rubbing a possessive hand over Jason’s ass. He slaps the inside of Jason’s thigh, harder than should be possible given the angle. “Spread them. I want to see that pretty pink toy you’re holding on to for me.”

Pretty Boy blushes scarlet. He’d been so focussed on the punishment, and the threats, that he’d almost forgotten about the toy stretching him open, even though it feels huge and alien. He’s never… he’s never had anything inside him like this before, but he’s thought about it. Sometimes, when he can’t control himself, he masturbates with two fingers in his ass, and it always feels so good, makes his orgasm so intense, but that’s different. This is so much bigger (so much better, Jason whispers in the back of Pretty Boy’s mind) stretching him so wide and impossible to get away from or ignore. And even worse (better) Midnighter can see it, he can see how Pretty Boy is stretched wide, how his hole is ready to take something even bigger…

Hot tears of humiliation begin to prickle in the corner of his eyes. This is all so _ awful _ and he doesn’t want any of it and his cock’s still so ** _hard_ **.

“Shhh,” Midnighter says, rubbing a hand over Pretty Boy’s back. His hand moves lower and lower, until his fingers are rubbing over the base of the toy, making it shift inside Pretty Boy’s ass, hard and unnatural and impossible to ignore. “Shhh now, there’s no need to cry. You’re going to take fifteen for me, like a good boy. Just fifteen, and then if you’re very good I’ll fuck your mouth. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

(Yes). “No!”

Midnighter presses a little bit harder on the toy, and it brushes against Jason’s prostate, so sudden and intense he loses all grip on the character for moment while he writhes and moans. “You see? You’re just a slut, just a shameless little slut, and little sluts want to get their mouths fucked.”

“I… I don’t!” That’s Jason, not Pretty Boy, and not at all convincing, but it’s the best acting he can manage when what he really wants to do is beg Midnighter to fuck him.

“Oh, so maybe you’d rather I fucked your ass, is that it? You don’t want me in your mouth because you want me to rip this little bit of plastic out and ream you, fuck you so hard you forget your own name?”

“No, no I don’t… please, not that!”

“Oh, so you do want me to fuck your mouth then?”

“No, no I don’t want…”

There’s a hand holding the hand of his head, huge and threatening and terrifyingly powerful. “I’m giving you a choice, Pretty Boy. Either you take fifteen like a good boy, and I fuck your mouth, or I pull this plug out right now and we see how long you can take me reaming you before you pass out. And you want to know the best part? I won’t stop when you pass out.”

Jesus fuck, Jason is going to come, he’s going to fucking come without a hand on him like a fucking kid if Midnighter doesn’t stop talking. “Fi… Fifteen?”

“Oh yeah. Five to get you desperate, five to make it hurt, and five more just to see if I can make you beg.”

“I… I can take it. I will take it, just please don’t, don’t…” If he actually says it, he’s going to break character completely and just beg, and he doesn’t want this to be over until Midnighter’s done all the things he promised.

“That depends how well you take it.” He shoves his thumb into Jason’s mouth, and Jason can’t stop himself from sucking. Some things are just fucking instinct, okay? “Slut. You’re going to keep your mouth open for me. I want to hear all the noises you make, none of this stoic pretending it’s not getting to you shit.”

Jason’s pretty sure he’s way beyond that point, but he nods anyway, and can’t bite back a whine when Midnighter takes back his thumb. “There’s a good little slut. Remember, mouth open.”

Jason tries to say “yes sir,” without closing his mouth, because he’s a brat who fucking loves getting punished, and then nearly bites his tongue when Midnighter spanks him. He’s not using his full strength, Jason’s pretty sure that would shatter his pelvis, but it’s still harder than an unenhanced human could manage without hurting their hand. “Fuck!”

“Five to get you desperate.”

“Not gonna take five,” Jason mutters. His whole body feels electric, hypersensitive to the slightest touch, and Midnighter’s hard thigh feels fucking incredible against his cock.

“What as that Pretty Boy?”

Right, character. Jason’s supposed to be in character. He pushes himself down, lets the timid little virgin he created up to the surface. “Nothing! I’m… I’m being good.”

“That’s up to me to decide, slut. Keep that mouth open. I want to hear exactly what I’m doing to you.”

Pretty Boy swallows compulsively, and then opens his mouth wide. He feels… god so fucking scared, and humiliated, and scared, and so _ horny _. He doesn’t know why he’s like this, except that he’s starting to think maybe Midnighter is right. Maybe he is just a slut. Maybe this is what he deserves after all.

The next slap hits in the exact same place as the first, making him gasp at the sting. It doesn’t hurt yet, but it will. Midnighter promised it would, and so far he’s kept all his promises.

The next slap hits his other ass cheek, and it’s so hard to be good when the only reward is going to be more humiliation, but he has to keep reminding himself that any humiliation is better than… than…

Fuck, the slaps are moving the toy inside him, pressing it against the spot inside that feels so good even though he doesn’t want it too. He’s trying to keep still, trying not to show that it’s affecting him, but he can’t keep from moving his hips, tiny desperate little movements that rub his cock against Midnighter’s leg, and fuck it all feels so good, even though the slaps are starting to really hurt, somehow that just makes it better.

He’s drooling, he can feel it dripping down his chin, and he’s so disgusting, so fucking pitiful, he doesn’t want this, he’s been fucking kidnapped and tied up and abused and he’s so desperate for it he’s drooling.

He tries to remind himself that he’s about to have his face fucked, and it’s awful and humiliating but it’s also so fucking hot, he wants it so much, he wants to be humiliated and degraded. He wants to be used, God he wants Midnighter to just use him, so much.

Fuck, what if he’s not being good enough? What if he’s not doing it right, and he doesn’t get Midnighter’s cock. He said that he’d fuck Pretty Boy’s ass instead but what if he doesn’t? What if he decides Pretty Boy isn’t even worth fucking?

Suddenly the blows stop, he’s not being spanked anymore, he’s not being touched at all except the horrible-wonderful pressure of Midnighter’s thigh against his cock.

“Please!” he tries to say, but he’s not allowed to close his mouth and he’s drooling so much, it barely sounds like a word. “Please punish me. Please hurt me!”

“Well look at that,” Midnighter says, smugly. “You did beg after all. You really want more?”

Pretty Boy is so frightened, and he doesn’t even know what of anymore, but he knows he needs to make Midnighter happy. “Please, please, I promise I’ll do better.”

“Are you sure? I’m not sure you deserve any more punishment.”

“Please!” He doesn’t even know if he’s Jason or Pretty Boy any more, he just knows that he’s not hurting enough. “I’ll be so good, I’ll be a good boy, let me earn your cock, please!”

“Jesus fuck kid, you’re going to give me fetishes I don’t even _ want _. Alright, I’ll hit you some more.”

“Thank you, thank you M, I’ll be so good for you, I promise I’ll be good.”

“Yeah, I believe you. I’ve never seen anyone who wants it as much as you do. How about this. If you can come, just from getting your ass spanked like a naughty child, I’ll let you suck my cock. Sound fair?”

Jason nods desperately. “Yes, yes, I can, I’m so close already, I just need to hurt more.”

“Fetishes I don’t even want,” Midnighter mutters. “I can hurt you.”

He slaps Jason’s ass again, and it’s burning hot and painful and so fucking good that Jason can’t keep from yelling for it, and for the next one, and the one after that. He probably sounds like he’s getting fucked and he doesn’t even care because it hurts so **good**.

He thrusts down onto Midnighter’s thigh, and back up to meet the next blow, hard enough to rattle his teeth in his head. He’s going to have bruises, actual fucking bruises in the shape of Midnighter’s palm, and Roy is going to be so fucking jealous.

He’s so close, hovering right on the edge, where pleasure and pain all blur into one wonderful whole and he just needs a little more, just a little… “Harder, please, harder!”

The next blow, way too hard and painful to be considered a spanking, hits the base of the toy just right, sending it skidding over his prostate and whiting out his whole mind with sheer overwhelming pleasure as he comes and comes for what feels like a fucking lifetime.

When it’s over he just lies there for a minute, trying to remember how breathing works. “Jesus Christ,” he manages eventually.

“You alright, kid?”

“So alright. Fuck, that was good.”

“You’re not going to be able to sit down for a week.”

“So fucking good. Have I mentioned that super strength is my favorite superpower?” He manages to get himself semi upright, and his stomach muscles are going to kill tomorrow but if M tries to uncuff him he might actually murder him. He twists, and his ass touches the sheets for a moment, and Jesus fucking Christ. He’s pretty sure it’s not physically possible for him to get hard again that quickly, but his cock tries anyway and the rush of blood fucking ** _aches_ **.

He slides down between Midnighter’s thighs, really fucking glad they got undressed before they started and he doesn’t have to undo flies with his teeth. It doesn’t matter what porn says, that shit it never sexy, and just because he _ can _undo buttons with his tongue doesn’t mean anyone wants to watch him do it.

Other advantage of already being naked – Midnighter’s cock is just _ there _, big and hard and a little wet at the tip. It’s an objectively nice cock, and Jason is really looking forward to getting to know it better.

“Hey…” Midnighter grabs his hair, which Jason is absolutely on board with, but then says, “Hold up kid,” which he isn’t. He listens anyway, because that’s the kind of thing you don’t ignore without prior consent.

When he looks up at him, Midnighter looks nothing like the man who tore out someone’s spine like a Mortal Kombat finisher earlier today, and everything like a man who just had a rape roleplay scene dropped on him without much negotiation.

“You okay, kid? Really okay?”

“I’d be better with your cock in my mouth, but I’m doing pretty good.” But he’s trying to be less of an asshole, so he adds, “Are you? ‘Cos I know that was kind of… a lot.”

“I’m getting that ‘a lot’ is kind of how you boys roll. I’m good, and also looking forward to fucking your pretty little mouth, I just wanted to check that that wasn’t… You kind of lost coherence for a bit there.”

“Yeah that happens. It’s probably payoff for avoiding any of the personality disorders that run in the family.” When Midnighter looks a question at him, he grins and says, “Let’s just say that Red would not have broken character during that scene. Not once. You’d probably be having this conversation with a very confused assault victim right now and it wouldn’t be any fun for anyone involved. I missed out on the Spook gene, but I got a double helping of the ‘wearing your damage on the outside for everyone to see’ gene. It balances out.”

“Do I want to know what damage translate into ‘beg the guy with super-strength to hit me harder’?”

“Probably not. And I don’t really want to talk about it while we’ve both got our cocks out.”

“That’s fair. Is Pretty Boy going to suck my cock, or are you?”

“Dealer’s choice. Sloppy virgin choking himself because he’s scared and desperate to make you happy, or unashamed slut _ fucking _himself because he’s turned on and desperate to make you happy?”

“I thought you said you didn’t get the personality disorder?”

“Hey, either way I get your cock so I’m pretty easy. Pretty Boy could want it just because he’s so into you if that helps?”

Midnighter actually closes his eyes. He looks like he’s counting to ten, which means he’s probably actually running complex scenarios of all the different ways he could kill Jason.

Still hot.

“You got a preference?”

He thinks about. He’d said no but… “I’m not anyone’s boy. I can’t… I can’t do that anymore.”

“And Pretty Boy can?”

“Pretty Boy would be anyone’s boy if they pushed him around enough. That’s sort of the point of him.”

“I thought that point was that he could beg me to stop when you couldn’t?”

“That too. They’re not mutually exclusive points.”

“If you say so.”

He looks so normal, so human, that Jason can’t help asking, “Is Midnighter still the right thing to call you?”

M looks surprised. “It’s my name. I get that you’re used to people who hide who they really are, but I’m an open book. Written mostly in blood.”

“You just seem… different.”

“I can be the big scary monster if you want. But just because I’m negotiating doesn’t mean I’m not also calculating ways to kill you.”

“Is it fucked up that I find that really hot?”

“Probably, but I’m a vigilante murderer so what the hell so I know about it? Maybe all the normal people are hot for supervillains, I don’t fucking know any normal people.”

“Me either. I mean, I try and keep in touch, but they just…” He hasn’t visited Treasure once since he came back from the dead, and he still doesn’t know if that’s the right call or not. She’s the only person left from his childhood who might actually care. “It’s probably bad that I’ve forgotten how to talk to anyone who doesn’t know how to kill a man with their bare hands.”

“Yeah, but it’s not worse than the thing where you want a mass murderer who looks like your dad to rape you, so…”

Jason tries not to laugh, he really does, but honestly if you can’t laugh at your own fucked up kinks you might as well just give up entirely. “If I wasn’t tied up and you weren’t fucking terrifying, I’d hit you for that.”

“If it’s any consolation, if I weren’t fucking terrifying I wouldn’t have dared to say that to you. Being the scariest guy in any given room has its perks, and one of them is being able to say whatever the hell I want.”

“What are the others?”

Midnighter grins, and just like that he’s the guy who needed a nail brush to get all the blood off his hands again. “Well desperate little sluts keep throwing themselves onto my cock, which spares me from the tedium of online dating.”

“Always nice to be appreciated.”

“I’d appreciate you a lot more if you’d hurry up and suck my dick,” Midnighter says. He gets one hand back in Jason’s hair, which is proof all by itself that this hook-up was a good idea as far as Jason is concerned, and says, “I don’t know what the point of even kidnapping you was if you’re not going to do as you’re told.”

The transition is easier this time. He’s already tied up and however fucking great it felt, rubbing off on Midnighter’s thigh while he spanked him was objectively humiliating, and so when he pushes Jason down Pretty Boy is right there, rising up to meet him, scared and humiliated and way more turned on than someone who just came all over themselves should be.

“I’ve never… I don’t…”

“Don’t worry,” Midnighter says, in the least reassuring voice Pretty Boy has ever heard in his life, “You don’t need to do anything except sit there and look pretty.” He tenses the hand he’s got in Pretty Boy’s hair. “And try not to choke.”

He uses his grip to pull Pretty Boy close, so close that his cock slides along Pretty Boy’s cheek, leaving a smear of pre-come. Marking him. Marking his property. Pretty Boy doesn’t know what it is about that idea that’s making his mouth water, but he wants it to stop.

“If you bite my cock, I hamstring you and feed you one of your own balls, you fucking understand me?”

From anyone else it would be an idle threat, but this is the Midnighter, the God-Killer, and he doesn’t make idle threats. Pretty Boy does his best to nod without losing any hair.

“I can’t hear you, Pretty Boy. Do you understand?”

It takes Pretty Boy two tries to form any coherent words, but eventually he manages a strained “Yes Sir.”

“None of that Sir crap, makes me feel like I’m your drill sergeant. You can call me M, and Pretty Boy? If you forget to answer me again I’ll make you call me Daddy.”

Jason hasn’t given Pretty Boy the context to know why that’s a threat, but that’s just fine because he’s never going to forget any of Midnighter’s orders, not when he knows what happens to boys who are bad.

“Glad we understand one another. Open wide.”

Pretty Boy can feel the blush, the tears of humiliation and shame pricking at the corners of his eyes. He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Midnighter’s expression and does as he’s told, holding his mouth open and letting Midnighter guide him onto his cock.

It had looked big, but it feels even bigger now that it’s inside him. He had a frantic moment of panic when he realises that the toy isn’t going to be enough, that it’s going to hurt when Midnighter fucks him, but Jason’s right there to rewrite the bits of character that aren’t working, to make Pretty Boy sure that if he just does a good enough job sucking Midnighter’s cock then he won’t have to get fucked, (and to make him just a little bit disappointed about that).

“Suck,” Midnighter orders, somewhere above him, and Pretty Boy does as he’s told, because what other choice does he have? He has to… he has to be good, he has to be so good that Midnighter will keep him, keep him and use him. He wants… he sucks hard, does his best to ignore the tears on his cheeks, focus on the way Midnighter’s cock fills his mouth, the way it presses against his tongue and makes him drool.

He’s so hungry, Midnighter was right he’s just a hungry little slut because he wants this so _ much _.

He can’t, he can’t want this, that’s so fucked up, he can’t possibly… He thrashes, trying to get away, trying to get free, suddenly unable to breathe around Midnighter’s cock in his mouth. He’s crying for real now, humiliation and fear and shame at the fact that he’s already getting hard again, and he has too, too get away, too…

“It’s a good thing I’m already going to Hell,” Midnighter says. He hauls Pretty Boy up off his cock by hair, and Pretty Boy is forced to open his eyes and look at him. From down on the ground, he looks huge, towering over Pretty Boy like some capricious god. “Not that the struggling didn’t feel great, but have you maybe got a word you want to say to me?”

“Please,” Pretty Boy says. “Please don’t make me beg.”

Midnighter raises an eyebrow. “Now why would you say that?” He runs a finger through Pretty Boy’s tears, brings it to his mouth and licks it clean. “Sounds to me like maybe you want it.”

“No! No I… I… Please don’t make me beg for it.”

“So you don’t want to suck my cock then? Maybe you’re not the good little slut I thought you were, huh?”

“I’m not… I’m not a slut! Please, you have to let me go!”

“Last chance to say that word, kid. After than you’re not coming back up for air unless you nerve strike me.”

“I’m not a slut!”

Midnighter grins at him, slow and predator. He looks like he’s thinking of tearing Pretty Boy’s throat out with his teeth.

He looks like he’d enjoy it.

Pretty Boy definitely doesn’t think it’s hot. Jason definitely does.

“Wrong choice. See, here’s the thing…” He pulls Pretty Boy very close, and Pretty Boy’s suddenly very aware of the fact that they haven’t kissed yet. His mouth feels empty after being so full. “Sluts get fucked, because they like it. Sluts get choices. But if you’re not a slut, I guess you’re just a toy for me to play with and toys don’t get choices. They just get used and used until they break.” His smile widens. “I’m going to break you, little object. Little toy. You’ll wish that you’d agreed to be my slut instead.”

And then he shoves Pretty Boy back down onto his cock, and Pretty Boy doesn’t understand why that even worked, except that maybe he is just a toy after all because his mouth had opened to take it without any input from his brain.

Midnighter hauls him down until his cock is pressing against the back of Pretty Boy’s throat, and Pretty Boy tries desperately to swallow him like Jason would but he can’t move, he’s got no leverage and not enough oxygen, and all he can do is take it, gagging and trying not to choke and so focussed on the overwhelming horror of it that he barely notices his cock getting hard again.

Finally, finally, Midnighter hauls him up enough that he can breathe for a minute before he’s shoved back down again, and the thought that Midnighter’s using him like a fleshlight drops Jason right out of character and into his _ worse _ fucking fantasies, the ones he doesn’t admit to anyone, the ones that get him off so hard it _ hurts _.

He’s just an object to be used, just a mouth and an ass and there’s nothing he can do, nothing he should do because he’s just a hole to be used and he doesn’t get to participate in this, he just gets to lie back and get fucked.

“Please,” he manages, more of a moan that a word, but it works, it gets Midnighter to stop fucking him long enough to haul him back up. He’s going to have bald spots after this, and it’s absolutely worth it.

“One of you have something to say to me?”

Jason goes down and Pretty Boy comes up, but this time Pretty Boy knows what he wants, knows what he is. “I’m a slut,” he blurts out. “Please, I’m a slut, I’m your slut, I’m… You can use me, you can break me into as many pieces as you want, just let me suck you? Please I need… I’ll do anything, be anything you want. Please!”

“And if I want to use you like a disposable fuck toy?”

“It’s too real,” Jason says, in Pretty Boy’s voice. “It’s hot, it’s so hot, but it’s not going to take me anywhere good. Just… let me be your pet, or your slut, or your boy. Let me be a person for you.”

“You okay? You need…?”

“I need to suck you,” Pretty Boy says. “Please, I need it so much. I’m okay, I’m good, I can take it, I promise I can take it. I need it so much!”

“This is the weirdest sex I’ve ever had,” Midnighter tells the ceiling. “And I’m really glad I’m already going to Hell. Sure kid, you can suck me, since you asked so nicely.” He pets Jason’s hair with rough affection. “Told you I’d make you beg for it.”

Jason hasn’t got any answers that wouldn’t totally break character, so he just says “Please” again in his best desperate baby slut voice, and moans when Midnighter finally pushes his head back down.

M lets go of his hair in favour of petting Jason’s head, and it’s a bit too sweet to work for the fantasy Jason’s in right now, but he gets that M probably needs it more than Jason needs it rough so he doesn’t say anything, just sets about showing off what a misspent youth and an oral fixation can do for you.

Now he’s got some room to move he can actually swallow Midnighter down like he wanted to, whimpering at how good it feels to be filled like that, how fucking much he wants it. The toy in his ass is actually helping more than it’s distracting, normally getting his throat fucked just makes him think about how much he wants to get reamed but now he can actually focus on the feeling of Midnighter’s cock, filling his mouth and making him drool for it. He knows exactly how fucked up it is that being spit-roasted makes him feel held and loved like nothing else, but in that moment, he doesn’t fucking care. Who the fuck would ever take being normal when being fucked up gets him feelings like this?

His cock is rock hard again, and the handcuffs and the position he’s in mean he can’t even rub off on anything while he’s fucking himself on Midnighter’s cock, and that feels fucking amazing too, like he’s so desperate for it, so hungry, that he can’t even get himself off until his dom’s come first.

“You feel fucking incredible, kid,” Midnighter moans, petting his hair with rough affection. “Like you were fucking made just for my cock.” He roles his hips, fucking up gently into Jason’s mouth, and Jason moans his approval. “Yeah? You want me to fuck your mouth, little slut?”

That was more of a whine than a moan but Midnighter seems to understand all the same. “God, you’re such a good boy when you want to be. Taking my cock so fucking well.”

Fuck, and he hadn’t even told M about the praise kink.

M’s doing a pretty good job at keeping his thrusts just shallow enough to keep from choking Jason, but Jason can’t get a hand around the rest of him when he’s tied up like this and let it never be said that Jason doesn’t always want more than he can have. He tugs on the grip hard M has on his hair hard enough to make his eyes water, but it gets him the leverage he needs, and the next time M’s cock hits the back of his throat he swallows it down.

He moans around M’s cock, the sounding coming out high and breathy, and swallows again just because he loves how full it makes him feel.

M stills for a minute, but Jason’s expression, or the fact that he can’t stop making noise even as he runs out of air, must clue him in to how much Jason wants it, because when he pulls out of Jason’s throat his next thrust is harder and longer, forcing Jason to swallow him or choke, and it’s fucking perfect.

Using his tongue while he deep-throats is more coordination that Jason can manage but he’s in his happy place right now, stuffed full and the center of Midnighter’s attention, so he does his best, trying to tell Midnighter with his tongue and lips how good this is, how much he needs it, how much he wants to please him.

“Fuck that’s… I’m not going to last. You want it in your mouth or on your face?”

Money shots are only really hot in porn, but of course that’s what Jason wants. He wants Midnighter to come on him, mark him as his pet slut, bought and sold, and then he wants him to wipe it off his face and feed it to him while he fucks him.

For that to work he has to get his mouth off Midnighter’s cock though, which is the one downside in his otherwise excellent fantasy.

He manages it, but he can’t help whimpering at the loss. “Face. Come on my face. Please,” he adds as an afterthought, in case Midnighter needs the extra incentive.

“Glad you finally decided to join the party,” Midnighter says, wrapping one huge hand around his cock and beginning to strip it hard and fast. “Don’t tell anyone, but that Pretty Boy’s a real weirdo. You wouldn’t believe the shit he’s into.”

Jason can’t keep from laughing at that, and then the first string of jizz hits his cheek and it’s really hot but also objectively hilarious. He screws up his eyes and just laughs and laughs and laughs until he’s breathless, and laughs some more because there’s super-hero come on his nose and everything smells of semen, and seriously, what the fuck even is his life?

“Jesus kid, it wasn’t that funny.”

“If you can’t laugh at your own fucked up kinks, you might as well just give up,” Jason tells him.

“Personal motto of yours?”

“How did you guess. That was really hot.”

“What, that part where I nearly triggered you or the part where you fucking laughed at my money-shot?”

“Both?”

“And you said it was your brother who wanted to fuck his own demons.”

“Hey, some of my inner demons are really hot. Thank you though. For noticing I mean.”

“Yeah I noticed the guy sucking my dick was begging me to stop, I’m a fucking prince.”

“You kind of are. And I wasn’t begging to stop sucking your dick. Kind of the opposite. It’s just… objectification is really hot and afterwards I drop like a fucking stone, every time.” He sees Midnighter’s expression and adds, “Subdrop. Endorphin crash combined with emotional freak out, for me at least. Not a great way to end a night.”

“And you didn’t think that was a good time to use your safeword?”

“What, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten it already! I specifically told you my safeword is ‘please, please M, let me suck your big hard cock’. God, I thought you were supposed to have a computer for a brain but maybe it’s just a speak-n-spell.”

“I will fucking snap you like a twig.”

“Hot."

“Freak.”

“Oh yeah. So how long before you’re ready to go again, because you promised to fuck me until I pass out and that sounds like the perfect end to this hot mess of a day.”

“You’re a hot mess,” Midnighter mutters, like he’s a sulky teenager instead of the second most dangerous man Jason’s ever met.

“The hottest.”

“You really sure you’re okay?”

“God, you really are a prince. I’m fine, promise. I think I’m done being anyone except myself for the evening though.”

“I noticed a definitely absence of Pretty Boy towards the end there.”

“Yeah well, he can’t suck cock as well as I do.”

“Hood, I have known professional sugar babies who don’t suck cock as well as you do.”

“It’s the trauma. Getting my face fucked is my happy place.”

“God and you’re not even joking, are you? Now I really am going to have to go for the full bingo card.”

“I know I said I didn’t want you to talk about my brothers’ sex lives, but if you fuck Red you have to tell me all the weird shit he’s into so I can mock him for it forever.”

“No way is his shit as weird as yours.”

“You say that because you don’t know him. It is a point of pride to him that his shit is weirder than anyone else’s.”

“He’s a fucking furry, isn’t he.”

That sets Jason off again, laughing so hard it almost hurts. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m going to tell him you said. I’m going to… His fucking face is going to be priceless!”

Midnighter just sits and watches him laugh, but Jason can tell he’s pleased. It’s in his aura or something, like how Bruce conveys all his emotions through various degrees of looming rather than just using his face like a real boy.

“God,” Jason says, when he can finally breathe again. “God, I think I needed that.”

Midnighter gives him one of his non-murderous smiles. “Nice to know you can actually act like a real human being when you want to.”

“I always act like a real human being!”

“Kid, you invented a second personality for yourself in under two minutes just so your rape fantasy would work better.”

“I’m a Bat.”

“You actually asked for the money-shot. Everyone knows that’s only hot in porn.”

“Not true, it’s hot in porn _ and _when you do it, apparently.

“Doesn’t sound like something a human being would say.”

“Damn you, caught me.” He makes his expression as serious as he can manage. “My name is Jay-Son, I’ve come from the planet Krypton with…” Midnighter gets a hand over his mouth but Jason has siblings, okay, and even if his relationships with them are kind of fucked he still knows how to continue being annoying in the face of all attempts to silence him. “I come with a… I will bite you, don’t think I won’t… message of… peace… and… don’t make me try and hurt you, it’ll only turn me on… cosmic harmony!”

Somehow Jason’s ended up on his back on the bed, one of Midnighter’s huge hands covering his mouth and the other pinning his hips to the bed to keep him from trying to buck Midnighter off. “Okay, this works for me.”

“You’re such a brat.”

“Yes, absolutely. Hey, totally unrelated note but how you do you feel about fucking me so hard I cry? Good tears this time, promise.”

“I can’t believe I’m attracted to you.”

“Yeah, me either. I’m really glad I came back from the dead.”

“I don’t even want to know if you’re joking about that.”

“I am absolutely not. Never ask me about my breathplay kink if you’re not prepared for the conversation to get real dark real quick.” Not that he’s sensitive about that or anything. Much. It’s why Roy and Kori are his favourite people in the world, because they don’t see any objective difference between ‘my abandonment issues made me really into being penetrated’ and ‘digging my way out of my own grave made me want to get choked’. Even he’s sometimes a little bit freaked out by the mental gymnastics his libido does to rationalise his trauma, but they just take it totally in stride, the way they do every other weird thing about him.

“That is definitely not the way to get me to fuck you.”

Jason grins at him, and gives himself a minute to appreciate how insane it is that Midnighter is still here and rolling with Jason’s bullshit. “You know, you haven’t actually kissed me yet.”

“Yeah? I didn’t think you’d be into that. Seems kind of tame by your standards.”

Jason pushes himself up on his bound hands just enough that he can lick Midnighter’s mouth. “I’m up for anything that involves bits of you going in my mouth.”

“And now you’ve made it weird.”

“I’m joking. Mostly. I like kissing. Kissing is great, it just didn’t fit with…”

“The unnegotiated rape-roleplay scene?”

“Sorry.”

Midnighter kisses him, just a quick chaste press of his lips against Jason’s. “It’s fine. It was interesting. You want me to untie you?”

“Not unless you want to.” He shifts, pressing his cock against Midnighter’s hip. He’s softened up while they were talking but that is not going to last long. “Tied up and stuffed full really works for me.”

“That’s the most normal thing you’ve said all night,” Midnighter tells him, and then kisses him for real.

Jason opens up to him at once, letting Midnighter control the kiss and moaning when M fucks lazily into his mouth. He hadn’t been joking about having things in his mouth, fingers, cock, tongue, he doesn’t care because it all feels amazing.

Midnighter isn’t rough, but he’s pushy and controlling and that works just fine for Jason. He’s hard again in seconds, and kind of hoping Midnighter doesn’t notice because he wants this kiss to go on for hours.

When Midnighter pulls back Jason whimpers like a kicked dog, tries to follow M’s mouth, and then whines for the sudden jolt of arousal when M pins him down to the bed with one huge hand. “Please!”

“You beg real pretty kid, anyone ever told you that?”

“Yeah.”

M grins at him. “I just bet. I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Oh! Yes, please, that’s… how do you want me?”

He starts to sit up, but Midnighter stops him. “You still want to do this like we discussed?”

“What about my behaviour tonight as suggested I wouldn’t want you to fuck me until I can’t take it anymore?”

M laughs. “Just letting you know the option’s there. We could just do this the usual way, you know, I fuck you, give you a reach around, we both come our brains out, and then we call it quits?”

“And your super stamina would be totally fine with that?”

“If I want god-like stamina, I fuck a meta. I’m totally fine with doing it the normal way with a regular human.”

“Well I’m totally fine with you finding out how many times I can get fucked in a row. More than fine.” He sees M’s dubious expression and says, “I swear I’ll call it quits if it gets to be too much.”

“No you won’t.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Not that it would come up. He knew from long hazy days in bed while Kori and Roy took it in turns to fuck him that he didn’t really have stopping points for stuff like this, except when he got too tired to stay awake. “Again.”

“Freak. Okay sure, why not. Your safeword’s still begonia. After all that…” he made a gesture, which seemed to encompass Jason and all his weird kinks, “I’m not sure I trust a no.”

“I swear on my best guns I’ll safeword if I need to.”

“You better, punk.”

“Oh god, don’t. You sound like Superman when you say that.”

“Big blue boy scouts not do it for you?”

“The one time I got up the nerve to hit on him, he gave me a lollipop and patted me on the head like I was a toddler.” Because Clark is a massive troll. It’s like 85% of why he and Bruce are friends.

“How old were you?”

“Old enough to deserve a ‘sorry kid, maybe if you were older’.”

“So way too fucking young, then.”

“I thought hitting on Superman was a good idea. While he was in costume. Of course I was way too young.”

“And you’re not just bitter that the only thing he put in your mouth was a lollipop?”

Jason laughs. “You weren’t around back before Diana persuaded him that just because his junk is bulletproof doesn’t mean he doesn’t need to wear a cup under the suit. Trust me, you’d be disappointed too.”

“The blue eyes and the super-strength works for me, but I prefer them a lot less sanctimonious.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. Although much as I hate to admit it, he really is a nice guy under all that… boy scout.”

“That’s the second time you’ve brought up boy scouts while we’re fucking. Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Beige polyester gets me horny?”

“So you don’t want me to put you on your knees and tell you to earn your cocksucking badge?”

“Now who’s the pervert? Anyway, you don’t want to know how old I was when I earned that one.”

“No, you’re right, I definitely don’t. I always did think it was stupid of the Justice League to put all the teenagers together in a clubhouse and just leave them to it.”

“Yeah but when they let us onto the Watchtower we did things like hit on Superman, so it’s really the lesser of two evils.” None of the Titans had been the one to teach him to suck cock, but Roy has definitely helped him practise a lot so he figures it counts. “Is there a getting fucked in the ass badge, because I’d like to start earning that now.”

“That’s the worst line anyone has ever tried to use on me. The worst.”

Jason wriggles under Midnighter, rubs his cock against M’s hip just to make sure he can’t miss it. The conversation hasn’t exactly been sexy but he’s got a toy in his ass and his hands cuffed uncomfortably underneath him and Midnighter is seriously hot, so his erection isn’t going anywhere any time soon. “You’re going to do it anyway.”

“You got a gag in that toybox of yours?”

Yes, because Roy learned quickly that keeping Jason’s mouth full was the best way to keep him happy, but that’s not what he wants right now.

“I promise to shut up if you let me suck your fingers while you fuck me. Or you could just kiss me again, whatever…” Midnighter takes him at his word, pulling him into a kiss so hard it feels bruising, like everyone’s going to be able to look at his mouth tomorrow and know what he did.

“You taste like my cock,” Midnighter says, when he eventually breaks away.

“Hot?” Some guys are into that, some really aren’t.

“Oh yeah.” He rolls them over suddenly, so he’s on his back with Jason straddling him. “You’re going to ride me, show me how much you want this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You gotta prove you deserve it before I fuck you.”

Jason has to actually close his eyes against the sudden rush of lust. “How are you so much better adjusted than me when you’re the embodiment of all my most unhealthy kinks?”

“Because you’re a dirty boy who gets off on being denied?”

“Hell yeah I am.”

“You know, I don’t actually have to let you come. I could just keep you on the edge.”

It wouldn’t even be hard. Jason loves getting fucked but he can’t come from that alone without a lot of edging first. “It’s hotter if you let me come and keep fucking me through it.”

Midnighter grins and reaches down to palm Jason’s cock. It’s the first time he’s actually touched it, and Jason can’t stop the gasp of pleasure, or the way he arches into the touch. “Whatever you say… Can I still call you pretty boy or it going to get weird again if I do?”

“No, you can say it.” He can feel himself blushing. “I kind of like it.”

“Yeah, I just bet you do.” Midnighter tightens his grip on Jason’s cock, not quite tight enough to hurt but so close Jason can taste it. He thrusts up into Midnighter’s fist, whimpers for the hot dry friction of it, pants for how good it feels and how close it is to what his body wants. “Jesus kid, you ever stop and think maybe sex shouldn’t hurt?”

“But it’s so much better when it does.”

“If you say so.” He tightens his grip, and now it really does hurt, and moving hurts even more, so of course Jason does it again, rolling his hips and groaning for how it pulls painful and good on his foreskin. “God, you really do say so.”

“Really really… Fuck, M, more!”

Midnighter’s other hand grabs his balls, rolling them in his palm in a way that sends waves of diffuse pleasure rolling through Jason, and then suddenly squeezing, hard and painful.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh fuck, M, that hurts so bad!”

“Want me to stop?”

“Fuck no. Do it harder.”

M does as he’s told, and for a minute Jason’s vision actually goes black, neon flashes dancing before his eyes, and he doesn’t know if he’s about to come or pass out from the pain and either way it’s fucking perfect.

He’s distantly aware that someone is making high animal noises of pain and that it’s probably him, but he doesn’t feel connected to any part of his body that isn’t hurting anymore, all his attention centred on his balls and cock and how much they hurt and how much he _ wants _it.

When M finally lets up, Jason collapses forward until his head is resting on Midnighter’s shoulder. It’s a fucking uncomfortable position, but he’s not sure he’s got the capacity to care anymore. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. Could you come from that?”

“No. Feels like I could though.”

“Is that how you regular humans survive this life? By liking it when it hurts you?”

Jason giggles. He feels almost high from the endorphin rush. He’d experimented a bit with drugs after the Pit, trying to find anything that could make him feel again. None of them ever felt as good as Talia kicking his ass in the name of training, until all he could focus on was how much it hurt. “No.” He considers that. “Only like, 70% of us. 50% if they’re Arrows.”

“Did you just admit the Arrows are saner than the Bats?” Midnighter asks. He’s not really part of the community, but apparently he knows enough to know about that particular rivalry. Maybe Dick told him.

“Their crazy is just different.” With Arrows it’s all emotion, all the time. They’re blissfully happy or they’re furious or they’re utterly despairing. But then Bats aren’t any better because while Ollie and his kids are having screaming rows and throwing things, Bruce and Tim are watching one another like cats, waiting for the other one to blink first. Maybe they should do a hostage exchange, Dick for Connor, except that he’s pretty sure that both families need their odd-one-out to keep them balanced. Fuck knows where Bruce would be if he hadn’t got Dick to remind him that it’s okay to emote now and then. And Roy is a fucking mess, but he’d be worse if it wasn’t for Connor talking him and Ollie down when they start gearing up for a fight.

Hell, maybe they should just swap Tim and Roy, see if some time behind enemy lines balances them out. Tim could sure as hell use some lessons in expressing his emotions, although more repression probably isn’t what Roy’s issues need.

Maybe they just all need to be more like the Arrows after all. At least yelling counts as communication.

“Actually maybe.”

Midnighter laughs. “So you’re saying I should stick to your family?”

“Oh no, you should definitely fuck Arsenal.”

“Yeah? He as crazy as you?”

“Different crazy. He likes big strong men who can push him around even more than me though.”

“Jesus, now I have to meet him.”

“I’ll tell him to look you up. Can we fuck now? Because my junk feels like someone put it in a vice and I’m pretty into that.”

“I’m not stopping you. Like I said you’re gonna be the one doing all the work.” He sets one of his huge hard hands on Jason’s hip and gives him a slow dangerous smile. “Time to show me how much you want it.”

“You had me figured out in like five seconds, didn’t you?”

“That’s what I do.” He reaches for the base of the plug, twists it a little while he watches Jason’s face. “You going to need any more prep than this?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Sure. Not unless you… how tight do you like it? Because I think you can guess my feelings about that.”

“As long as I’m not going to be seeing blood on my dick later, you’re good.”

“Yeah we’re good then.” He rolls his shoulders, stiff from having his arms cuffed behind him for so long. “Take it out.”

Midnighter does as he’s told, pulls the toy out and then stops at the widest point, watching Jason’s face like he thinks he might have been lying about what he can take. It’s fine though, Jason’s pushed this guy too much tonight to lie about something like that so there’s no pain, only the ache of muscles being forced into a stretch. The feeling almost isn’t sexual, so associated with training, but it’s still good in a bone deep satisfying way, the same way learning a new kata is good, or letting Dick teach him some crazy new way to fly.

Midnighter must be satisfied with what he sees, because he finally pulls the toy all the way out, and Jason bites his lip against the hollow feeling he’s left with. Way too many of his issues revolve around being abandoned, and that empty feeling always hits him just wrong, but it’s fine because he only needs to shuffle back a little to get his bound hands on Midnighter’s dick, not all the way hard but close enough to make this work.

Positioning himself when his hands are tied is always tricky, but he’s got experience and motivation and core strength most body builders would kill for, so he makes it work.

He sinks down on M’s cock, and he knows the expression on his face is probably fucking beatific but he doesn’t care, doesn’t about anything except the stretch, and M’s hands on his hips, and the feeling of the empty space inside him being filled.

He knows his body well enough not to try and take it all on the first go, gets halfway down before he has to push back up, give himself time to get used to the stretch before he sinks back down, taking a little more each time. M is the perfect gentleman, his hands on Jason’s hips steadying but never controlling, and Jason would kind of like it if M just pulled him down and made him take it all, too big and too fast and way too intense, but he doesn’t have to be a freak all the time and this is good too.

He gives himself a minute once he’s taken it all to just breath, enjoy the feeling of being so full, and then M lets go of his hip to squeeze his ass, right over the bruising where it’s still hot and sore and really fucking good, and fuck taking his time, Jason needs to get fucked right the hell now.

He pushes himself up until only the tip is still inside him, until he starts to feel that bad-hollow feeling again, and then shoves down too hard and too sudden and absolutely fucking perfect. He’s going to have to pace himself if he’s really going to show M how good he can be, but that’s future Jason’s problem. Right-now Jason is way to busy fucking all the air out of himself to care.

“Jesus,” M says. “You’re fucking hungry for it, aren’t you?”

“God, yes…” he cuts himself off so he gasp and shake for how good it feels, “I need it. Promise me you’ll fuck me harder than this?”

“I thought you still wanted to be able to ride your bike tomorrow?”

“That was before you spanked me so good I won’t be sitting right for a week. Now I just… Ah, fuck… now I just want you to _ ruin _me.”

“Jesus. Jesus fuck kid, you move like… Like your fucking brother!”

“No one moves like Nightwing. Don’t talk about my family while you’ve got your cock in me.”

“Oh yeah?” Midnighter’s hand closes tight on his hip, tight enough that he’s going to have finger bruises tomorrow, and he shoves Jason down hard onto his cock. All Jason’s safehouses are soundproofed, but even if they weren’t he’d still have yelled for that because it felt so fucking perfect. “That mean you don’t want me to tell you all the things I’d do to Red Robin?”

“Jesus,” he says, and then, “Jesus fuck” because he can’t help imagining it, and they might be brothers in arms rather than brothers by blood (when they’re not sworn enemies) but he still tries not to fantasise about any of this family, even though Red is insane and terrifying and the only one in the family who thinks Jason’s jokes about dying are funny. “Please don’t talk about my brothers while you’re fucking me.”

“Not fucking you yet, pretty boy. This is all you, fucking yourself because you want it just that bad.”

“I really fucking do. God, so much.” It’s hard to get a full breath, and his thighs are already starting to ache, and Jason wants more so bad he can taste it. “Fuck, so much.”

“You going to come from just this?”

“Want… ah, fuck… want to. Can’t. Need, oh yeah, need something.”

Midnighter gets one of those big big hands back on Jason’s balls, holds them still so that the Jason has to bite back a scream for how much it hurts when he pushes himself up, the skin pulling so taught it feels like Midnighter’s going to tear them right off, but he doesn’t stop fucking himself.

“Good boys come on my cock,” M says, with a grin that looks more like a snarl. “And good boys get fucked so hard they forget their own names.”

Jason whines, for the pain and the pleasure and how much he wants that. “Please, please, fuck M, I can’t, I… fuck, that hurts so bad.”

“And you love it.”

“Yes, yes, fuck, don’t stop.”

Midnighter is a bastard, who’d taken about thirty seconds to figure out Jason gets off on being denied, so he lets go of his balls and moves his attention to his nipples, pinching hard, one after the other, making them ache and Jason whimper.

“Ever think about getting these pierced?”

“Every time I spend more than two days off the street,” Jason admits. “Please, M, that feels so good but I can’t…”

“Spoiled brat,” M says, but he reaches down and presses the heel of his hand against Jason’s cock, slightly too hard for comfort. “That what you need, pretty boy?”

The angle’s awkward, and fucking himself as hard as he wants means his cock’s getting slapped as much as rubbed, and it’s fucking humiliating that M doesn’t even think he deserves a handjob. “Fuck yeah.”

“Slut,” M says, but it sounds honestly affectionate. “Come on, show me what a good boy you can be.”

Jason does his very best, fucking himself so hard his thighs ache and he can’t get a full breath. M’s hand against his cock stings when it hits him and aches when it rubs him, and CBT isn’t usually enough to get him there but he usually isn’t riding a cock at the same time, and this time the pain is definitely going to get him where he needs to be, he just needs to hold out for long enough.

He just needs… “Hey M, you up for some more weird shit?”

“Jesus Christ, kid, have you not had enough? Sure, what do you need?”

He forces himself to slow down, to go from bouncing on M’s cock to grinding down on it like the world’s filthiest lapdance. “Slap me.”

“You know porn isn’t real life right?”

“Sure, because in porn they’re only pretending they get hit. Come on.” He rolls his hips, rubs M’s cock right against his sweetspot, moans for pleasure so intense it almost hurts. “I promise I’ll enjoy it.”

“How hard?”

“Don’t care. I can take it.”

“Kid, I could rip your head off, and it wouldn’t even be _ difficult _. How hard?”

God that’s hot. “Hard enough to split my lip, not so hard I lose any teeth.”

“You’re so fucked up,” Midnighter says, but he follows it up with a backhand that makes Jason’s ears ring, has him tasting blood and clenching down so hard on M’s cock it probably hurts and he doesn’t even care because it feels so fucking good.

“Fuck yeah.” He pushes himself up, sits down hard and fast and licks the blood off his teeth, moans for how fucking perfect it feels. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

M wraps his hand around Jason’s cock, hot and hard and really fucking good. “I think you’ve proved you want it. Time to come for me pretty boy.”

Jason’s legs are way too tired, but he forces them to keep working anyway, fucks himself down onto M’s cock and up into his fist, pulls at the cuffs until they’re rubbing his wrists raw because he can’t keep from moving, can’t keep from trying to have more, even when what he’s got is everything he fucking wants. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, M, fuck, please, feels so good, hurts so fucking good, I can’t, I… Fuck!”

His words turn into a yell that’s almost a scream as he comes, shuddering and shaking and over-sensitized, and M just keeps jacking him through it like he promised, his palm slick with Jason’s come, and Jason might be in love. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” M says, voice rough like it’s been him yelling himself hoarse. “My turn.”

He doesn’t bother pulling out, just rolls Jason onto his back, his hands trapped underneath him and M’s huge arms caging him in. He grins up at him, sore and happy and fuck-stupid. “Hey.”

M leans in, kisses him slow and sweet. “Hey yourself.”

“I really like your cock.”

That gets him a laugh and another kiss. “It likes you too. Ready to go again?”

“Hell yeah. Fuck me up.”

“Too late, someone got there first.”

“Yeah, but sane people don’t feel this good.” Clenching down on M’s cock was probably a mistake, his hole feels tender and raw and swollen, but it also definitely wasn’t because Jesus fuck Jason lives a little bit for that feeling.

“If I give you something to suck will you stop being such a freak?”

“Definitely not. Do it anyway.”

M grins at him and pushes two of his fingers into Jason’s mouth in time with a slow thrust of his hips, and Jason moans and writhes and does his best to get those fingers as deep in his mouth as they’ll go.

“This is not going to take long,” M says, to no one in particular, and then he finally starts to move, long deep thrusts that push Jason completely out of his head, so all he can do is suck on M’s fingers and take it, and he’s so fucking glad his mouth is full because there’s kinks he refuses to have and as long as he doesn’t say anything out loud he can pretend this isn’t hitting all of them.

M tries to pulls his fingers back, and Jason just sucks harder until he gives up, until he leans in and kisses the corners of Jason’s mouth, and says “guess this really is your happy place.”

Jason gives him a fucked out smile, and suckles on the fingers filling his mouth, clenches down just a little on M’s cock, just enough to make it feel huge where it’s filling Jason up.

M presses his forehead against Jason’s, whispers, “you’re so fucking pretty like this, kid. You should be this fucked out all the time,” and Jason moans around M’s fingers because in that hot sweet moment, when M seems so huge and so gentle, that seems like the best idea in the world.

“Such a good boy,” M says, and he’s speeding up a little now, but he’s still thrusting deep, still filling up all the empty space inside Jason so well, “such a perfect boy, Jesus, fucking told you I’d make you forget everything that isn’t how much you want my cock.”

He pulls his fingers most of the way out of Jason’s mouth, and maybe he wanted an answer but Jason just switches to licking them, little kitten licks that make his gut clench with how much he wants them back in his mouth.

“Alright, I hear you,” M says, pushing them back in and grinding down right against Jason’s sweet spot, “I got you kid, and you’re gonna get me, real soon. You feel fucking amazing, you know that? Being so sweet for me. You’re gonna make me come.”

Jason moans and clenches down, hard enough that it hurts and M has to force his way in like this is Jason’s first time and he doesn’t know how to open up for it, and does his best to say “want it” without dislodging the fingers in his mouth.

“Yeah, I know you do. I know you do, pretty boy.”

Jason’s getting drool on his chin, mixing with the dried come neither of them bothered cleaning off earlier, and he can still taste blood, and he’s so full he can almost forget that he’s hollow on the inside. He’s not going to get hard again, not after two in a row, but he doesn’t even care, everything just feels so good.

When M groans and thrusts in deep, his cock twitching as he comes, Jason makes a noise that’s almost a purr, low and hot and happy.

The noise he makes when Midnighter pulls his fingers out of Jason’s mouth is a lot less happy, but it makes Midnighter laugh, and pet his face with spit-slick fingers. “We don’t have any of the same kinks, do we pretty boy?” he asks, amused. “You looked ready to call me…"

“Don’t say it,” Jason tells him. “I’m trying not to have that one.”

M grins at him. “Good luck with that.”

“You’ll just have to fuck me real mean next. I mean, if you still want to.”

“Kid, you’ve been spanked, slapped, tied up, had your cock brutalised, and been fucked in both ends. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Have you?”

“That’s not what I asked.” 

Jason rolls his hips, more for show than for how it moves M’s cock inside him, and Midnighter sighs and says, “Jesus Christ, alright. No, I haven’t. I’ll be ready to go again in about two minutes if you keep looking like that, but that doesn’t mean you’re okay to get fucked again.”

Jason is many things, and one of them is definitely a slut, but one of them is also a younger brother. He gives M his very best puppy eyes, complete with trembling bottom lip. “But, you _ promised _.”

M puts his hand over Jason’s face. “You’re disgusting.”

“You still want to fuck me though,” Jason says from behind M’s palm.

“Yeah, I really do,” M admits. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I watched you rip a man’s arm off and beat him unconscious with it. I want you to keep fucking me forever.” He licks M’s palm, just because it’s there, and then does it again because he likes how it feels. “You don’t have to be mean about it if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, but you sound like you’re having a goddamned religious experience when I fuck you hard enough. Just… give me a minute.”

“Whatever you need. You know, not that I’m complaining or anything, but I really didn’t expect you to be this nice. I mean, given what you do on the streets…”

“Every man’s gotta have some rules, Hood. Otherwise I’m nothing but what they made me.”

“Yeah, I get that. I was… Someone made me. Tried to, anyway. I don’t think she was even trying to turn me into a weapon, she just didn’t know what else to do with me.”

“And Batman?”

“Oh, he’s as messed up as I am. I mean, there’s wearing your damage on the outside, and then there’s dressing up like a flying rodent. He always wanted me to be a boy though, not a weapon.”

“And now you kill people for fun and profit.”

“Wearing an identity I stole from the man who murdered me. It’s a wonder my kinks aren’t more fucked up than they are when you think about it.”

“Like your brother’s.”

“Oh, I came by my freak naturally. Red Robin _ works _at his.”

“Have you considered that you talk about your little brother during sex way too much for someone who says incest doesn’t do it for him?”

“Ew, incest doesn’t… Look, it’s different with Red. We’re not… We’re not related by blood, and we didn’t grow up together, the way me and Nightwing did. Not that that matters, he’s still family and I don’t fuck family.”

“Family is what you make of it.”

“Is this really what you want to talk about in the middle of sex?”

“Says the guy who was telling me about his own death earlier.” He presses close, grinds a cock that isn’t nearly as soft as it ought to be into Jason’s ass hard enough that Jason _ growls _. “Still sure you want to do this?”

“You’re a great guy, M, you really are, but if you don’t stop being so nice to me I’m gonna tell you why I get off on this shit, _ while _you’re fucking me.”

“I always appreciate a creative threat. I’m going to pull out now.”

“No! I’m sorry, I won’t… I can’t…”

“Relax kid. I’m just gonna turn you over.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Maybe, if you learn not to be such a cock hungry little slut.” Jason both hates and loves that M can say shit like that and sound so fucking casual about it, like he’s just passing the time of day instead of hitting like five of Jason’s kinks at once. “Roll over, I want you on your knees for this.”

Jason does his best with legs that tremble from the effort, gets himself onto his front and manages to get his knees under him enough to push himself up to kneeling.

M presses in close behind him, so Jason’s bound hands are rubbing against M’s abs, and kisses the back of Jason’s neck, right over the bite he’d left earlier, and if Jason wasn’t kneeling he’s pretty sure his legs would have given out completely. “You’re going to be wearing my mark for days, pretty boy.”

“So bite harder next time.”

M chuckles, and wraps one of those huge hands around the back of Jason’s head, shoves him down so his face is pressed against the sheets. “Cocky. Think you’ll get hard again this time?”

“Depends how well you fuck me,” Jason says into the comforter. He tries to turn his head, just enough that he can breath and speak clearly, and after a really intense moment of stillness, M lets him. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll tap out if I need to. You just… do what you want to me.”

“And if I want to treat you right and touch you gently?”

“Then I wouldn’t be on my knees and face right now. Come on, I can take it. I promise to get off on it, even if I don’t get hard again.”

“I knew following you home was going to be a good time,” M says. He lets go of Jason’s head, grabs his hip instead while he lines himself up and then shoves home, so hard and sudden Jason makes a noise that sounds like he’s been stabbed. “Try and remember that you asked for this.”

He pulls out again, just a little too slowly for it not to feel like he’s gutting Jason, and slams back in. His hips hit Jason’s ass as he thrusts, and Jason hadn’t been certain whether he really was bruised before, but he’s certain now.

Let off the leash, M fucks exactly as hard as Jason had been dreaming off when he’d been watching him destroy the mad scientists they’d both been after, not as deep as before but more intense.

Jason’s making punched out little noises with every thrust, that make him sound exactly as well fucked as he feels, high breathy noises that are as much pleasure as pain except that everything feels amazing. His ass fucking _ aches _, and every time M’s hipbones catch the bruises just right there’s this sudden sharp flair of pain that’s making Jason’s cock think seriously about getting hard again. His neck and shoulders feel like over-kneaded dough, his legs would probably have given out on him by now if it weren’t for M’s hand on his hip, holding him immobile. His thoat still feels used, and he fucking loves that feeling, the way it makes every swallow feel like the dirtiest fucking complement.

His sac feels swollen, and the way M’s moving him with every slap of his hips is only making the ache worse.

He wants to ask for it harder, just to see what M would do, how it would feel, how much it would hurt, but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about getting him off, he’s had his. This is him letting M use him because he fucking owes the guy, and because Jason loves getting used when he can put himself in the right mindset.

It’s not about objectification. If anything it’s the opposite of that, it’s about reminding himself that he’s a thinking feeling person and M’s using him as a hole to fuck _ anyway _.

M’s big enough that he can’t really avoid hitting Jason’s prostate, but he’s not aiming for it, and that just makes it all fucking hotter, that every bit of pleasure Jason’s getting from this is an accident, becuase he’s such a slut that M doesn’t even need to try to please him.

He’d said he was done being anyone else, and he’d meant it, but he’s not Tim and the transition is never smooth. Pretty Boy is still there, lurking in the back of Jason’s mind, fucked out and desperate and desperate for this to go on forever.

M lets go of one of Jason’s hips in exchange for grabbing the chain that attaches his cuffs, using it to pull Jason back into his thrusts. The angle makes his shoulders burn, feels more like a suspension than something as simple as handcuffs, makes the stiff edges of the leather catch where Jason had rubbed the skin raw earlier.

“You know I could keep going all night,” M says suddenly, his tone almost conversational. Only the hitch in his breathing betraying that this is anything other than a casual chat. “Call your stupid bluff. Find out just how long I can really go.”

It’s probably supposed to be a threat, but Jason thinks about what it would feel like to pass out like this and wake up to find M hasn’t even slowed down, and moans his approval, clenching down on M’s cock hard enough to make himself yell for the sudden intensity.

“Fuck, you actually want it, don’t you?” He pulls hard on Jason’s wrists, hard enough to lift Jason’s head off the bed and make him yell and struggle for how much it hurts. “You’re actually that fuck-stupid right now that you’d let me.”

“Hurts,” Jason whines, and he doesn’t know if he means his arms, or M fucking his sore swollen hole, or how his stupid cock is trying to get hard again. “M, hurts!”

“Admit it,” M snarls, and Jason has a sudden rush of fear, a moment when it fucking hits him all at once just how insanely dangerous the man in his bed is, how no one even knows where he is right now. “Tell me you’d let me.”

“I would,” Jason wails. “Fuck, M, anything, don’t stop!”

“You could make me into a very very bad man, Hood, saying things like that.” M lets go of the cuffs and Jason slumps back down onto the bed, whimpering for the relief on strained muscles, the way fear is making everything hotter. M pets his back, grips the back of his neck in a way that might be a threat but just feels warm to Jason’s strung-out mind. “You’re lucky I’m not the weapon they made me anymore.”

There’s something in his voice, something vulnerable that makes Jason need to say, “Weapons don’t fuck this good.”

“No weapon ever begged for my cock the way you do, that’s for damn sure. How the fuck did they manage to make a desperate little slut instead?”

Jason has to laugh for that, because M has no idea how close to the truth he’s hit, but he also needs to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “Well for right now I’m your desperate little slut, so don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“That’s not exactly an achievement, you’d be anyone’s if you thought they could hurt you like this,” M says, and Jason can hear the grin back in his voice. “You remember your safeword, kid?”

“Oh M, fuck my mouth, please fuck my mouth I need it…” He gets his face ground into the sheets, and clenches down hard enough to make spots dance in the corners of his vision in retaliation. He needs to stop doing that if he ever wants to sit down again but in this moment it feels way too much like exactly what he needs for him to care.

“Brat.” M slows his thrusts and reaches around, just like he said he wouldn’t earlier, wraps his hand around Jason’s dick. It’s not hard, he’s pretty sure it’s not going to get hard, but he can feel how it’s flushed and plump with blood, his fucked-out brain warring with simple biology about what he needs right now. “I think you can go again.”

That sends a thrill of fear through Jason, more intense than when he’d thought M had gone dark on him. “Can’t. M please, don’t… I can’t, just fuck me, that’s all I need.”

M squeezes Jason’s soft cock, hard enough to hurt just a little, the way Jason likes. He slams his hips into Jason’s and then stays there, not moving, one hand still on Jason’s hip to keep him from being able to fuck himself back into M’s dick the way he wants. “I think you can go again, pretty boy, and I don’t remember offering you a choice about it.”

“Please, M, I can’t, I can’t, please don’t stop! Fuck me, please, I need it, _ M… _!”

M groans, tightens his grip on Jason’s hip so much he knows he’s going to have bruises tomorrow. “Next time we do this you can invite that friend of yours, or maybe your brother. Someone who can keep that mouth occupied.” Jason knows the taste of Roy, the feel and weight of him on his tongue. He’s never even seen Tim’s dick, not even in the showers in the cave, but he can imagine it. God he wants something in his mouth. “I’m not giving you a choice, pretty.” He rolls Jason’s cock in his palm, still mostly soft. “You’re going to come on my cock again, because I say so. You said this time was all about me, and I want to hear you cry when you come.”

Bad dom, Jason thinks. Nice guy but bad dom. It doesn’t make any difference. Pretty Boy was always Jason deep down, because Jason just isn’t good at not being himself, and he wants it, want to prove what a good boy he can be, wants M to overwhealm his objections and fuck him until all the thoughts, good and bad, are driven right out of his head.

“Yeah,” he says, and he sounds as scared as he feels and he really hopes that’s not going to be an issue for M. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you want.”

“Begonia,” M says to him, a reminder and a promise, “don’t forget,” and starts fucking Jason again, hard and fast and nailing his sweetspot every fucking time, so intense Jason can’t do anything but _ feel _, moan and writhe and whimper and fucking feel all of it.

Then M switches his grip on Jason’s neck, slides his hand around to cup the front of Jason’s throat, uses it to haul Jason up against him. Jason whines for how to changes the angle, shifts M’s cock inside him, and then groans low in his throat when M stops just cupping his throat and starts to _ squeeze _.

“Yes,” he manages, barely even a word because M’s fucking all the air out of him and not letting him get any more. “God, yes, please!”

M just makes a noise like a huge jungle cat, low and pleased and predatory. He lets go of Jason’s cock to hold onto his hip, but that’s just fine because the pleasure that’s building into Jason isn’t centered on his cock anyway, it is isn’t centered anywhere except his burning lungs and his aching ass and how used and fucked-out and loved he feels like this.

“How long can you keep this up?” M asks, like he thinks Jason has the air or the smarts to answer him right now. “How long before you just pass out on my cock?”

Not long, probably, but Jason’s time-sense has been fucked out of him with his air and his shame and he doesn’t care, he just wants to keep this feeling, this place in his mind where nothing matters but letting himself be used.

“You’re close,” M tells him. “I can feel it. You’re going to come for me, aren’t you pretty boy?”

Jason makes a noise, something breathless and desperate. His whole body feels electric, like sparks should be dancing between his fingers and along his hair, like maybe when he comes he’ll just fly apart, lose his shape as well as his mind.

“You’re going to make me come, pretty boy, just as soon as you do. You ready?”

This time Jason’s pretty sure the noise isn’t anywhere except inside his own head, but M seems to hear it anyway. “Yeah, you’re ready for me.”

He lets go of Jason’s throat, fucks into Jason hard enough that Jason gasps, and that’s it, oxygen flooding his body, igniting his blood, pleasure filling him up so sudden and intense he whites out.

Vaguely he’s aware that he’s screaming, that M’s biting down on his shoulder hard enough to break the skin as he comes, that Jason’s ass and thighs are slick with sweat and lube and semen.

When he comes back to himself he’s lying on his side on the bed, M pressed up close behind him. “You alright, kid?”

“Mmmm,” Jason manages.

“I’m gonna pull out now, okay?”

“Yeah. Where’s…” Jason doesn’t bother to cover his mouth for the yawn, too fucked out too care. “Where’s the plug?”

“You know I was just trying to see what would make you balk when I said that, right?”

“But you _ promised _,” Jason says, way too tired to care that he sounds like a spoiled kid when he whines like that. “M…”

“God, you really are a freak,” M says, but he sounds pretty happy about it.

Jason’s not thrilled when M has to let go of him to find the plug where it had landed among the sheets, but it’s worth it to feel how easily it slides it, his hole still loose and fucked out from M’s cock. “_ Yeah _.”

“Such a freak,” M says again, curling around Jason with one arm over his waist.

Jason’s nearly asleep, but he’s also down pretty deep so he has to ask, “Was I good?”

There’s a moment of tension, stillness even Jason’s not too out of it to feel. This, more than anything else, is the moment they find out what kind of man M really is. Whether he recognises the need in Jason. Whether he knows how to answer it.

M pets his hair and curls a little tighter around Jason. “Yeah kid, you were the fucking best.” He kisses the back of Jason’s neck. “Sleep now, okay?”

Jason’s out before he can even reply. 

* * *

He wakes up to so many different kinds of pain it takes him a minute to process them all.

They’re not bad pains, the ache of overtaxed muscles and a sting from his shoulder, where he vaguely remembers M biting him. His ass hurts, but in the way that’s kind of making him want to get fucked again.

He rolls over and rediscovers the butt-plug, still inside him and making moving all kinds of exciting.

He shouldn’t get fucked again this morning. Definitely. Probably.

Maybe Roy will be so into hearing what Jason’s been up to he’ll forget what a bad idea it is.

Jason kind of wants to just lie here forever, enjoying the feeling of being well rested and well used, but his bladder has different ideas.

Standing up is interesting in so many ways, but he manages to stagger to the bathroom. He thinks about pissing first, then remembering that’s what showers are for and that taking the plug out is going to make a huge fucking mess.

Taking it out isn’t nearly as fun as putting it in had been, but he’s a semi-responsible semi-adult, and he copes.

He would like to take a long luxurious shower, but he’s not sure his legs are up to it so instead he falls into post-patrol routine, getting clean as quickly and with as little movement as possible.

He’s definitely going back to bed for a few hours. His time-sense won’t be back online until he has a chance to look at an actual clock, but he’s pretty sure it’s still early for little vigis, maybe not even lunchtime yet.

But first he needs food. He wants coffee, but he also wants to sleep more. There’s probably tea in the cupboards. Alfred keeps sending him care packages.

He wraps a towel around his waist, a habit from back when he was fifteen and thought it mattered how big his dick was, self-conscious about sharing a locker-room with Bruce (and it’s not like Jason looked on purpose, but it was hard to miss, since Bruce is very much all in proportion).

It’s not until he gets to the living room that his brain registers noise from the kitchen. He has a moment of terror, and then he remembers that M had lain down to sleep with him last night.

He can smell bacon anyway, and he’s almost certain none of his enemies would bother to cook him breakfast if they broke into his safehouse.

Maybe Black Mask.

He braces himself for an awkward “I thought I’d be able to sneak out before you woke up” breakfast, and opens the kitchen door.

Roy stops trying to climb M like a tree long enough to wave at him. “I was in the area, thought I’d drop in.”

M gives him a look that’s somehow equal parts arousal, amusement, and resignation. “You have interesting friends, pretty boy.”

“The bacon’s burning,” Jason says.

“Got distracted,” Roy says, unashamed. He’s got M backed up against one of the cabinets, so Roy’s between him and the door, and he doesn’t look like he’s planning to let him escape.

M doesn’t look like he minds.

Jason turns the stove off, since it doesn’t look like either of them are going to do it, and starts slicing bread. “Bacon first, threesome later.”

“That’s fair,” Roy agrees, finally letting M go so he can give Jason a proper kiss hello. He tastes of too-sweet coffee and Jason’s cigarettes. “He’s really hot. Is he as good as he looks?”

“You have to work him up to it, but he’ll fuck you up the way you want eventually,” Jason tells him.

“You’re a freak,” M tells him, looking like he’s trying not to laugh. “And this time we’re doing the negotiation _ first _.”

“Fair.” Jason passes him the first bacon sandwich. “Ketchup is in the fridge. My safeword’s still ‘please let me suck your cock’.”

Roy grins. “I knew coming to visit was a good idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments are the wind beneath my wings.
> 
> Find me on tumblr writing fics at [jupitermelichios](https://jupitermelichios.tumblr.com/) and reblogging stuff at [lentilswitheverything](https://lentilswitheverything.tumblr.com)


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